


Far From Perfect (But Close Enough)

by Nationless



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Bruce Banner, M/M, Non-soulmate relationships, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Iron Man 3 Compliant, Platonic Soulmates, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-09-12 06:36:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 69,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9059863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nationless/pseuds/Nationless
Summary: If there was one thing Tony Stark was good at, it was being contrary. He didn't plan on that extending to the 'predestined plans' of the universe that paired him and his soulmate up. But there were some things that he couldn't ignore, and probably the most dangerous man in the world was one of those things. Especially when he had a brain like that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of the 'Scars We Hide' universe, and while there are tie-ins, there is no reason whatsoever for you to have to read either of those first, hence I didn't add it to the series.  
> This is my first Science Boyfriends work, and I really hope you guys enjoy it. Concrit and the like are always appreciated.

Tony Stark was very comfortable admitting that he didn’t get along with most people. It was a fact he had come to terms with when he was barely old enough to toddle around, showcasing something he built to his father.

Well. Maybe that was unfair. There was a good chance he didn’t actually figure it out until he was in boarding school and came toe to toe with Justin Hammer. In retrospect, Tony recognized that most of his ‘friends’ from those days were just ass-kissing for his wealth. But when he was a kid?

That was almost too long ago to bother remembering properly, in all honesty.

But the point of the matter was that Tony got that he put people off if he hung around them long enough. What he wasn’t used to was people seeing right through his carefully constructed facades and disliking him right off the bat.

Pepper had been one of the blinding exceptions where it had worked in reverse. She had hated him on site, but eventually learned to love him. It just took a lot of lab accidents and maybe more than one hospital trip after Tony hadn't been careful enough and had caused explosions by mistake.That said, for the most part, people did initially like Tony. But today seemed to be one of those days when most everyone knew just enough about him prior to meeting Tony that they just didn't want to deal with him. The second Tony found out that one Dr. Robert Bruce Banner had been recruited for the same mission that he’d just made a spectacle of crashing, though? That made the whole encounter with Captain-fucking-America almost seemed worth it.

Almost.

Tony made no secret of the completely intellectually based crush he had on the man ever since he first came across any of his published work. Rhodey always thought it was a little weird, but then, Rhodey thought most of what Tony did was a little weird.

At the same time, Steve Rogers was pretty much Tony's antithesis, and dealing with that even for a few minutes was a little grating at times.

And maybe he was a little loopy on adrenaline from the whole ‘fighting with/against two Norse gods and a long dead supersoldier’ thing, but Tony was pretty sure that so far, Bruce was pretty on board with the two of them meeting. There was no anger in his eyes at the casual mention of the Hulk, and there was something long-suffering about the way that he let Tony lead them to the lab Bruce was set up in, despite the fact that he’d never even remotely been on this helicarrier before. Or one in general, for that matter.

“So, are you part of the muscle in our rag-tag bunch or are you just here because of that gorgeous brain of yours?” Tony asked, peering into whatever room he passed by that was actually open. Which was, surprisingly, quite a few of them. For a security agency, there wasn’t a lot of security. Or maybe they were just banking on everyone here having the clearance for this, which wasn’t particularly likely, but whatever.

Bruce scoffed, finally taking it upon himself to steer Tony in the right direction by gently nudging him where he wanted. “Strictly non-combative. I don’t think anyone actually wants to see if the Other Guy’s gotten any less destructive, myself included.”

Instantly his heart rate picked up, and that could be either good or bad. “Could be fun,” Tony shot back, grinning openly despite the fact that… Well yeah, that was a terrifying idea. Amazing, but probably not something that should be tested out in the open. Even if Tony kind of wanted to. Kind of really wanted to, if he was being completely honest.

“No, it really wouldn’t be,” Bruce replied, rolling his eyes as he dropped his hand from Tony’s arm to walk into the lab, and—

Well, it wasn’t _great_. Compared to the helicarrier they were on, it was fine, and would more than get the job done, but Tony definitely preferred his own lab space to this. And he’d also rather look into the craft they were on, because that was definitely interesting. Maybe he’d have to get blueprints…

“Shall we get started?" Bruce asked mildly, sidestepping Tony to get into the lab where it looked like at least something had been set up. So apparently Bruce had been here for a while before Tony and the not-really-gods gods showed up.

Tony smirked widely, pulling himself up on one of the tables so he could have some semblance of imagining that he was actually considerably taller than the other man, despite the fact that maybe an inch separated them.

"Just looking for the cube and hoping that you don't get pulled into a fight, right?" Tony verified, immediately pulling out his tablet so he could get JARVIS set up and comfy in here while they worked. There was a chance they were going to be there for a while, and damn if he was going to work without J to nag and keep track of him. And Bruce. He should definitely try and get Bruce attached to his brain child.

"That's about the size of it, yes." Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Tony liked to think there was a flicker of interest in Bruce's eyes as Tony quickly got J up and running, doing some basic voice tests to make sure that everything was fine.

"Sir, you're neglecting your work," JARVIS reminded him, sounding a bit pointed. Almost like his namesake in an almost uncomfortable way, but hey. That was half the point in designing him to begin with. "And you've neglected your manners."

Tony sighed, rolling his eyes at the ceiling as if J could actually see before shooting Bruce a rather incredulous look. "I don't know where he gets that from, honestly. JARVIS, this is Doctor Bruce Banner, and Banner..." He gestured around the entire room as if he could actually physically see the program. "This is JARVIS. My AI and general favorite, but you can’t tell the others.”

“Sir says that about all of us. I don’t know why he thinks he continues to get away with it.”

Bruce looked more or less bemused, eyes flickering over the ceiling and walls as he listened; only glancing back to Tony when he clicked his tongue.

“Come on, J. You know that’s not true. You’re making me look bad in front of the good doctor; don’t do that to me.”

“Worried about your reputation?” Bruce asked. “It’s nice to meet you, JARVIS. I never thought I’d get to meet you in person, so to speak.” He rounded up some files, carefully stepping through the lab before setting them down next to Tony. “We need to get to work, though. I’d rather not be here for any longer than I have to, no offense.”

Tony’s brow furrowed a bit as he looked at the manila folders on the table. Why hadn’t Bruce tried to directly hand it to him? Not to say that he _wanted_ Bruce to hand him the files, but that was just what people did until Tony pulled the whole ‘doesn’t like to be handed things’ thing. “None taken,” he said slowly, picking up the files and hopping up onto the table.

It was weirdly elementary-grade stuff. Not the kind of thing that warranted tracking down the missing physicist, but here they both were anyways. So damn if he wasn’t going to take full advantage of that by nudging close and trying to get into Bruce’s good graces in his own round-about way.

“Anything about this seem fishy to you?” Tony asked, setting the folders aside to pull up the actual work. There was a Tesseract to find, and as exciting as that seemed…

He glanced over to find Bruce familiarizing himself with how JARVIS was working within their lab, a small smile on his lips as he easily picked it up. “You mean aside from all of it?” His gaze fixed on Tony for a brief moment, dark eyes flashing above wire framed glasses before returning to the holograms JARVIS was showing him. “I’m hoping that if I don’t look too closely, then I won’t be involved enough to be pulled in when it goes sideways.”

“When, not if?”

Bruce clicked his tongue, fiddling a bit with the size of the displays. Shrinking them beyond what Tony would consider practical. “You don’t think it’s an ‘if’ either, do you? May as well be upfront about it.”

All right, yeah, Tony was _definitely_ interested. In more than one way. He slid off the table, wandering behind Bruce to expand the holograms so he could get a better sense as to what he was trying to do. “You have no sense of adventure, Doctor,” he quipped, resting a hand on the man’s shoulder as he leaned forward.

He could feel the second Bruce tensed up, and he was ready to pull back the second there was any further indication of discomfort, but it never came. He just let Tony work around him.

Briefly, and maybe Tony was imagining it, he caught Bruce’s gaze flicker over his bare forearm. Then on Tony’s hand, maybe looking over the small nicks on his knuckles.

“I think I’ve had more than enough adventure in my life, Stark,” Bruce said with a wry smile that only looked a little fake. He maneuvered away from Tony, adjusting his glasses and undoing the adjustments to the bright blue holograms before them.

“How can you even work like that?” He gestured to the small display, blowing it right back up. “I mean, isn’t it hard to see? I can feel myself going a little cross eyed just thinking about it.”

And, all right, apparently he’d accidentally annoyed the guy, because Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How about you work on that side, and I’ll work over here so you don’t have to worry about if I can read this or not? Really, I just want to find the cube and maybe go back to Kolkata in the next two weeks.”

Tony held his hands up in surrender. Ok, minor setback. He could fix that, probably. Given time, and access to Pepper for help. “All right, big guy. But maybe stop by my labs before you disappear off the face of the earth? You won’t regret it, I promise.”

He couldn’t explain just why he wanted to be close to Bruce. There was no weird pull, or desire there, but there was just something… Something that made Tony want to be close. To keep the man around, and for Bruce to like him.

Maybe he’d said something right, though, because he got another one of those wry smiles that looked more real than not, and a mild ‘we’ll see’ before he put himself to work.

Reassured, Tony began to do the same, ignoring most urges to keep making small talk. Snide remarks, sure, but for the most part he tried to keep his mouth shut unless Bruce asked him something.

Not that he did much of that. Genius indeed, because Bruce just accepted him and JARVIS as they were, and didn’t ask a million questions as to how or why. He took it as fact, probably figuring things out on his own as he and Tony quickly put together the algorithm for what they were working on. In the space of under an hour, they had JARVIS looking for the radiation signature which meant they could go back to the fun part.

“Twelve floors, Banner,” Tony reminded as he minimized J’s scanning. He didn’t need to be looking at that right now.

Bruce scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Still set on that, aren’t you? You know, a lot of people would actively avoid putting me anywhere near that much expensive equipment.”

Tony raised a brow, making a show of looking around the lab. “I can see that. But all the same, think about it.”

The room looked strangely empty without their work shining all over the room. Well. Emptier, at least. There was still clutter everywhere, and the very obvious murder stick was prominently on display despite the fact that no one was supposed to touch it. It was easier to just look at Bruce now, without all the distractions. There was less around to accidentally catch his attention.

Which, unfortunately, gave Tony more time to marvel at how easy it had been for them. Loathe as he was to admit it, Tony couldn’t have done it any faster on his own. And that was definitely an anomaly in his life.

The two of them just seemed to click while working together. Sure, there’d been no easy banter, but that could be fixed with time. And it was appalling at how quickly Bruce got the hang of swiping Tony’s work from his side of the room, only to replace it with his own with a smug little grin that he hid behind the motion of adjusting his glasses.

And while it irritated him to no end, there was something so refreshing about it. Here Tony was, working by himself because no one had been able to possibly keep up, and here was this man, looking unassuming as anything, who was threatening to outpace him. To outshine him if Tony wasn’t careful, and there was a thrill about it. A challenge. Which was _definitely_ something Tony wanted to get used to.


	2. Chapter 2

The rubble of the top floors of his and Pepper’s precious brain child was scattered across the hardwood. The trip up here with all the ‘Avengers’ was probably more than a little awkward, because Tony was pretty sure that at least some of them had to take the elevator. If not most of them.

And looking back, Tony was pretty sure he didn’t know how Hulk even got up here, but it was a nice effect to have them all standing around Loki’s prone body, even though it was a little cramped and awkward.

Most of them had cleared out pretty quick; SHIELD arrived and got Loki locked up and took him and his adopted brother with him, since Thor pretty much insisted that he wasn’t letting the man out of his sight again. Which, Tony thought, was for the best, but he wouldn’t say that out loud to any person. That was probably rude.

Clint leaned heavily on Natasha as they walked out after shwarma, Steve following after with only a little hesitation.

Which really just left Tony and a vaguely shaken Bruce in the torn up shop, and somewhere during their post-battle meal, the whole thing suddenly became real.

Aliens had just fallen from the sky. Tony had just about gotten himself killed in a desperate Hail Mary and he hadn’t even thought _twice_ about it. The Hulk had apparently grabbed him after he fell back through the wormhole, so that was an experience he was almost disappointed he didn’t remember. But at the same time, the roar that had woken him back up was probably more than enough memory of the green guy.

And that was made all the more disconcerting with the fact that said guy was sitting across from him, empty plates in front of him and dressed in Tony’s clothes.

The change-back hadn’t been pretty, and while normally he’d be all for looking at Bruce without his clothes on, there was something almost heartbreakingly vulnerable about the way that his shrinking hands were clutching at the floor that he’d immediately turned away and grabbed something for him to wear. And thankfully, it seemed to fit him fairly well.

“So where are you going from here?” Tony asked, pushing his own half-full plate aside. Despite the fact that he was probably ravenous, shock had set in so sickeningly quickly that the thought of eating made him feel vaguely ill.

For what it was worth, Bruce didn’t even look up from his food, still working away on maybe his third order. “Suppose I’ll see if I can find somewhere to lay low for a night or two. Make sure Loki is actually escorted off the planet, and then I’ll back on a plane somewhere.”

Again there was that weird flash of… something that Tony couldn’t place. Maybe something too raw for him to even want to try. “You could always just stay with me,” he offered, aiming for casual even though he was sure he missed it by a mile. “Least I can do after you grabbed me out of the sky, since I’m pretty sure if I tried to give you money you would just give it right back.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed as he finally set his food aside, looking as if he was trying to see directly into Tony. Like he could just look past that easy, blasé front if he looked just right.

As if that wasn’t a horribly uncomfortable thought.

“You don’t have to thank me or anything. I’m just glad that he didn’t hurt you on the way down.” Each word seemed to be measured slowly as Bruce folded his hands on the table. “Don’t go out of your way or anything. I’ve made my own way in places much less savory than Manhattan.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to, is what I’m saying,” Tony cut in, leaning closer. “It’s not like I’m offering because I feel obligated, or because I think you won’t be all right if you go out there. We both know that you can do that without a problem, resources or not. What I _am_  saying is that I’ve got space, and I’d really like trying to bribe you into sticking around for a while longer.”

Maybe, just maybe, Tony had managed to say the right thing this time. Despite his long record of putting his foot in his mouth around people he wanted to impress, and the fact that he knew he’d vaguely gotten on the man’s nerves sometimes, Bruce offered him a small, self conscious smile before ducking his head.

“Just until the Asgardians are off Earth.”

* * *

Tony managed to get the pair of them back to the Tower fairly quickly, after writing out a check to the shop owners to cover any damage the battle had caused and then some.

“Remember, if he asks, the guest rooms aren’t finished,” Tony prompted, searching for extra pillows for the bed. Sure, five was more than enough for him, but he didn’t know if Bruce was the type who just hoarded pillows like Tony hoarded blankets.

“You know, Sir, I highly doubt Doctor Banner would object if you were to ask him.”

He rolled his eyes, finding an extra two throws before tossing them onto the bed. “Work with me, J. Just agree not to tell him and we’re all good. Besides, it’s almost true? Nothing’s really furnished beyond the basics anyways. I’m still deciding on the paint for half of them.”

In the silence, Tony could swear he could hear his AI’s exasperation. It felt like minutes ticked by before JARVIS agreed and Tony got to sag in relief.

It wasn’t that he wanted to lie to Bruce, it was just… Well. Tony was more than a little shaken up and he’d really rather not be alone in bed tonight. Not if he could convince someone to share, and he wasn’t particularly up to finding someone to fuck at the last minute.

Hell, showering by himself had been a bit of an ordeal. Soot and blood had rushed down the drain, and for a while it felt like he couldn’t breathe. It was too quiet. Even the water rushing over him hadn’t been enough, and Tony had ended up talking to JARVIS the entire time he was in there just so he didn’t feel so unmoored, so alone.

Remembering that had brought back the faint tremors of his hand, and he tried to push it out of his mind, especially since he just heard the water turn off in the en suite which meant Bruce would be out soon. Helplessness, as a rule, was something Tony avoided showing whenever possible. And he really didn’t want to be showing it to Bruce, who had compared his alter ego to an exposed nerve. Who had just showcased said alter ego.

Of course, Tony didn’t have quite enough time to pull that off, so when the door opened, he shoved his hands into the pockets of the sweatpants he decided to sleep in.

Bruce’s damp hair had just started curling around his ears, and he somehow looked ten years younger without his glasses on. It was a little startling, if Tony was being honest. Here he was, worrying over how open he was looking, and there the other man stood. Just like he belonged here, with his feet bare against the hardwood and one of Tony’s MIT shirts a little snug around his shoulders.

Dark eyes flickered to the bright blue light in the center of Tony’s chest, and he vaguely wondered if he should have layered a third shirt over it. Just to hide the glow.

“Thank you for letting me clean up here.” A small smile touched his lips as he, thankfully, looked away. “Where… Where am I sleeping?”

Maybe this was a bad plan. If Tony was going to be squirrely about Bruce seeing him vulnerable, sharing a bed was the absolute worst idea. But… Tony knew that if he was alone, he’d be up all night. And Tony _really_  wanted to sleep. “Well, since the guest rooms aren’t really ready yet…” He gestured to the king sized bed that was piled with pillows and blankets.

And if he glared at the ceiling, daring JARVIS to contradict him, no one had to know that but Tony.

Thankfully, the AI remained quiet, but that meant that Tony had to deal with the heavy silence that fell between the pair of them. Walls came back up behind Bruce's brown eyes, making Tony realize that they had fallen away at some point between shwarma and now.

"I don't think that's a good idea. You've seen what the other guy can do, do you really want to share such close space with that?" Bruce asked. He brushed some damp curls away from his forehead, only for them to stubbornly flop back down in a ridiculously endearing way that Tony wished he could stop noticing.

He held up his hands in surrender, taking a step towards Bruce to counter it. "Ok, first of all, yes. Second of all, I'm pretty sure that you're not going to hulk out on me in your sleep, so that isn't even an issue. Third of all... I mean, it's not like I have another bed to offer you, you know? Not that I wouldn't want to share a bed with you even if there was, but that's not the point right now."

At the very least, Bruce didn't make any move to retreat. He stayed still in the middle of the floor, glancing between Tony and the bed. Maybe gauging how they would fit on it, or maybe sizing up Tony to see if he was a threat. He wasn't sure. But at least he wasn't outright denying it, or making a run for it.

"Just for a couple nights," he tried, placating. Another step forward that Bruce didn't match in retreat, and they were really starting to close the distance now. "I won't touch you if you don't want. Probably. I'm a cuddler, according to Rhodey, but what does he know? It's not like we've shared a bed in decades, I think."

That got a more genuine smile out of Bruce, wry, vaguely amused. "You didn't talk this much on the helicarrier, you know."

"Well, you haven't told me to shut up yet, so I'm guessing that you don't mind," Tony fired right back. "Come on, Banner. Co-sleep with me, or whatever it's called. Supposedly it's good for stress, which should make your other guy problem less of a problem. And we can have JARVIS monitor whatever you want so that if something does happen in your sleep, he can wake one of us up. Or both of us, probably."

There was almost a marked hesitation before Bruce took a step forward. And there almost looked to be something challenging in his eyes. “Just for a few nights. Once Loki’s off-world, I still plan on getting out of the country.”

Tony’s shoulders dropped in relief, not having realized that they’d been tensed until then. “Just for a few nights,” he repeated. Only then did he take a step back, chin jerking to the bed. “So, I’m going now. You can join me or whatever. If there’s too much on there, just toss it off, all right?”

He didn’t look back to see if Bruce followed, but he was pretty sure that he could hear his footsteps. Tony immediately climbed under the eight or so blankets he had draped over the bed, almost smiling when he felt the mattress dip under Bruce’s weight on the other side.

“JARVIS, lights?” he said. Tony made sure to keep his back to Bruce, hand over the reactor as the room went dark. At least, if nothing else, it wasn’t like it could be seen from under the covers.

Bruce seemed to fall asleep quickly, breath evening out slow and deep. Apparently it was enough noise to keep Tony’s nerves steady, and it wasn’t long before he was also under.

* * *

Somehow, over the course of three days, the two had fallen into a routine of sorts. Tony would wake up to still-warm sheets but no Bruce, got them both breakfast ordered in, worked on rebuilding the upper floors, coffee would be brought to him every four hours or so, and they would fall asleep together, only to repeat it all the next morning.

So when they all met at the park in the middle of the day almost half a week later, it shook up Tony’s day in a less than pleasant way.

It was a little weird, seeing them all in casual clothes. Natasha looked more comfortable outside the professional pencil skirts and skin tight catsuits he was used to seeing her in. She kept close to… Barton? Who had bright purple hearing aids in and had this weird aura like he could see everything behind those dark sunglasses.

And Steve wore fucking _khakis_.

Bruce had to go and find the ugliest clothes in Tony’s wardrobe to wear here, and looked a lot more at peace than he had when they first met, though he still wrung his hands more than a little bit.

Watching Thor and Loki leave was a bit of an experience, and for some reason the flash of bright blue light before they vanished set him on edge, which he was quick to cover up to anyone who just might be paying attention to him.

“You know, if anyone needs, I’ve got space if anyone wants a place to stay,” he offered up to the group. “Guest rooms… Well, they wouldn’t be guest rooms if any of you decided to live there. No rent, but you’d have to cook for yourselves.”

He wasn’t sure why he offered. That was a lot of people who could be living in his space, and Tony didn’t work with his interns for a reason. He liked his space. He loved people, but he also needed a place where there weren’t people around.

Blessedly, everyone quickly declined before heading out on their own ways, leaving just him and Bruce driving back to the Tower in one of his less ostentatious cars.

“Twelve floors of R&D, Bruce.” It felt casual. Probably wasn’t, but at least Tony wasn’t done with them quite yet, so he could use that as an excuse for Bruce to stay longer.

That earned him a soft laugh. “I told you I was leaving when he was gone, Tony. I can maybe swing another night or two, but I really have to be going after this.” Bruce reached out, touching his shoulder for a brief moment. And if Tony hadn’t been so aware of Bruce, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed, with how faint it was. “Maybe I’ll come by to check it out sometime, though. Does that work for you?”

Tony sighed, letting himself pout for a brief moment. “Come on. It’s not like you can’t help people from here. Besides, it would be so much easier to get the band back together if we don’t have to worry about flying you all the way back here.”

It was grasping at straws. He was painfully well aware of that. But Bruce had, thus far, kept the worst of the nightmares away and seemed to be a good bed mate, even if platonic bed-sharing wasn’t in his usual repertoire. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want a chance to work with him on something that wasn’t ‘life or death’ related.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Bruce rolling his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Didn’t insist on leaving, and didn’t promise to stay.

It took three days of limbo for Tony to figure out that Bruce wasn’t immediately going anywhere. Their weird routine continued, and the Tower was slowly starting to come back together, and the coffee got a little better each time, as if Bruce could figure out what to change without Tony giving any feedback.

 When he woke up the fourth morning to feel Bruce still warm, still in his bed, Tony felt like he could actually breathe again for the first time since the first night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! I was hoping to get this up before the day ended, and it looks like thus far, I'm doing pretty well on the 'resolutions' thing. Anyways, I hope you guys like this new chapter, and with any luck I can actually pull off the whole 'weekly, regular update' thing that I'm aiming for.  
> This is unbeta'd, concrit and the like is always well appreciated


	3. Chapter 3

It took weeks before Tony could actually get the upper levels functioning even somewhat properly again. Weeks where, somehow, Bruce still hadn’t figured out that there were other beds that he could be potentially sleeping in, and god knew how that happened.

Even though Tony could never say with absolute certainty what it was that Bruce even did all day. It wasn’t like he was around while Tony was getting all the rubble shoved away, or setting up the supports.

The few times that he did see the other man around the tower during the day was either when Bruce was bringing him food, or when Tony stopped by on the temporary lab spaces set up in the awkward, intermediate floors. Above where Tony kept his Stark Industries work, but below the living spaces.

Maybe he should just convert some of those into places for the rest of the Avengers when he was done rebuilding his personal labs. Well. Hopefully they would his and Bruce's personal labs.

“Sir, Ms. Potts is here to see you,” JARVIS said, breaking Tony out of his thoughts.

He groaned at the thought. He was tired. It was the middle of the afternoon, and he just wanted to fall asleep on the counter. “I’m guessing that you sent her up without even asking, didn’t you?” he accused, though there wasn’t much heat behind it. Tony was well aware on his AI’s opinions of Pepper Potts, and it was eerily similar to the opinion he’d been forming of Bruce, but Tony was trying not to be smug about that, and he was definitely trying not to examine it too closely.

“Naturally, Sir.”

A quick glance across the kitchen told Tony that his new housemate was more than a little terrified at the prospect, judging by the pallor of his face and the way his grasp on the knife he was washing tightened. It was a relatively common reaction, he supposed. A lot of people had learned to treat the woman with respect and a modicum of fear.

The sharp click of heels was the only indication that the woman had arrived, and while part of Tony was relieved at the prospect of finally seeing her again… he kind of wished that Bruce wasn’t in the same room.

Of course, the sound of her footsteps paused, and Tony was deliberately focusing on his lunch/dinner/whatever meal this was so he didn’t have to look her in the eye quite yet.

“You’re actually eating at a decent time of day.”

Tony winced a bit at the open surprise in her voice, finally lifting his gaze to meet her, and—

You’d think he wouldn’t even be heartbroken over it, really. He knew that he was the one who drove her away, but she was still standing there in a neatly pressed violet blouse with a ridiculously well-fitted pencil skirt, and how did she even manage to get any work done dressing like that?

But, he supposed, it wasn't like she could get away with the looser shirts she used to work in. The ones with a lot of drape that dipped low enough to show off the thick ropes of scarring that no one but them wanted to see. Hell, even _they_ didn't want to see it. The only reason Tony wasn't instinctively tugging his shirt as if it would cover the light better if it wasn't directly over it was because she'd already seen the gory details of the damn thing.

He gestured vaguely to where Bruce was. “I’m pretty sure if I didn’t, he was going to break down the wall I’d just put up and drag me down here anyway, so I was just saving us the effort.”

Her face twisted in a mix of pain and… God, if that was fear, Tony was going to feel like _such_ an asshole. “Tony—“

“It’s fine, ma’am,” Bruce interrupted, almost too softly to even be called that.

When Tony glanced over, he caught a bit of a sheepish smile before Bruce turned away to start drying the dishes he’d decided to clean by hand.

“I know what he means. I’m not bothered.”

The look on Pepper’s face still read ‘disapproval', and yeah Tony needed to learn how to watch his mouth around other people. Steve had a similar reaction, and it was getting a little annoying to have to feel so defensive over it. It's not like he was treating Bruce any differently than he would treat anyone else.

He set aside his half-finished sandwich, skirting around the island. “So what brings you here?” Tony asked, touching her elbow to lead her out of the room because whatever conversation this was going to be, he doubted Bruce wanted to hear it. Tony didn't even want to hear it, but he also knew better than to think that Pepper was going to leave without saying it.

And sure enough, it ended up being a lecture about being safe. How Tony had just about died _again_ , and he needed to be more cautious.

How living with the man who turned into the Hulk was definitely one of his less intelligent moves, and that he was going to give her a heart attack one of these days.

And even though she left by kissing his cheek, and softly insisting that she just wanted him to be careful, it felt a little hollow. Because as far as Tony was concerned, Bruce was honestly safer than he was, and for some reason no one seemed to see that.

* * *

 

“I should be leaving soon,” Bruce whispered.

It was the middle of the night, even by Tony’s standards. He’d been so close to getting some sleep, comforted by the other man’s steady breathing and the warmth he radiated. Needless to say, he was a little grumpy turning around to face Bruce as he groped blindly for his face.

“No, you should stay here forever instead. Is this about Pep?” Tony was pretty sure his hand was awkwardly splayed across Bruce’s forehead, but he really couldn’t care enough to move it. He hadn't told the man what she had said. It wasn't _relevant_ as far as he was concerned. Maybe she thought that living with Banner had a lot of risks, but. Honestly she should know that he was almost riskier considering that he caused a hell of a lot of destruction just by _being_.

With a sigh, Bruce did the moving for him, gently knocking Tony’s hand aside though at least he let his palm rest on top of Tony’s hand.

And if his heart kicked up a notch or two, no one knew but him.

“No, but that’s a fair consideration too.” The pause between them was heavy, dragging on until he continued. “I’m not safe around people. Even if you’re the only one here, I could just as easily kill you just by losing control for a second. I should…”

Tony huffed, wiggling a bit closer but at least he refrained from flipping his hand over so that he could actually grasp Bruce’s hand. “You could lose control anywhere. It’s not particular to here, and wouldn’t you rather risk it when there’s someone like me close at hand who can at least fight back against you?”

Actually, the thought made him cringe a bit. Fighting against the Hulk, against Bruce? Yeah, that was wrong on at least three different levels, and he should really avoid that if at all possible.

“You’ve already been here for over a month,” he tried, switching tactics before the other could get a word in edgewise. “Nothing’s happened. You’ve just kind of been around, making sure I don’t get myself killed, and that I sleep. You practically took over Pepper’s old job, and I’m sure she’d be grateful for that if she knew. So don’t worry about what she’s saying, or anyone else. Yourself included, because you _aren’t_ a threat. Not around me, at least.”

Almost blessedly, Bruce didn’t say anything in return. A few breaths sounded the slightest bit wet, but he simply squeezed Tony’s hand before pulling away and taking a bit too much of the covers with him.

But, Tony supposed, he could let him have that for tonight. He’d deal with repercussions in the morning.

Or. He would, if Bruce was still around.

Needless to say, when Tony woke up to find the other side of the bed cold, he panicked a little bit. He bolted up, looking for any sign of the other man. “Is he..?”

“Doctor Banner is on the terrace, as he usually is,” JARVIS supplied primly. As if he was a little miffed that Tony didn’t know the other man’s schedule.

Actually, come to think about it, Tony was a little miffed that he didn’t know the guy’s schedule. It had been months, as he’d pointed out earlier. Months, and he wasn’t entirely sure what Bruce did to pass the time when he wasn’t looking out for Tony.

In his defense, though, he /was/ busy trying to get the tower pulled back together. It wasn’t an overnight thing. Maybe once he got the top floors rebuilt he could fix that, but…

“Let him know that he’s free to join me if he wants. And that I’m free to join him if he wants, too. Actually, maybe lead with that?” Tony asked.

“Certainly, Sir.”

Tony smiled indulgently up at the ceiling, knowing that JARVIS should be able to see. "This is why you're my actual favorite," he said.

* * *

 

It was another two days before Tony actually got the labs set up as he like, and the second he was done, he was bolting down to find Bruce, careless of the overly stained jeans and shirt that did little to cover much of anything, if he was being honest.

But that didn't matter.

And it also didn't matter that he obviously interrupted Bruce doing _something_ , considering that he was pretty much balanced in a ridiculously neat headstand before Tony threw open the door and broke his concentration, which earned him a sharp glare when he was oriented enough to look up at Tony.

"Tower's rebuilt," Tony offered, hands raised defensively. "Twelve floors, completely up and ready for whatever you want to use them for."

Bruce huffed, pushing a hand through his hair as he stood up. "You know, you could have knocked or something," he pointed out.

Tony waved dismissively, reaching out to grab Bruce's hand and ignored the way that his eyes flickered over his bare arm. "No time. I want you to see this."

In retrospect, it might have been faster to just have J let Bruce know, but at least this way he could physically make sure that the man got on the elevator up.

And, more importantly, he got to see up close the surprise that flitted across Bruce's face when he looked at the sleek space. As his dark eyes slid across the length of the metal tables and the neat stack of glass beakers.

"Are they all like this?" he asked, walking ahead of Tony to drag his fingertips across the pristine surfaces.

He hung back, just contenting himself to watch Bruce familiarize himself with the space. "Small variations, but for the most part, yeah. Is that... good?"

God, why was he even worried about that? It was better than before, and before it had been pretty much laboratory Candyland. He'd pushed the boundaries to obscene on this one, and he was worrying over Bruce's opinion as if he'd think it was awful. That it wasn't enough.

And yet, he still felt his heart stutter a bit when Bruce offered him a small smile that just felt warm, somehow. "It'll do, I suppose. You know, I'm used to working in much better places, but..."

Tony couldn't stop himself from grinning widely, laughing under his breath. "I guess you'll just have to make do, then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter chapter this time, but I needed to get this set in place before I could get any semblance of a plot actually moving along here.  
> This is unbeta'd, any mistakes are my own, I'd love if they were pointed out, and I warmly welcome concrit. Thank you so much for reading, leaving kudos, etc <3


	4. Chapter 4

Bruce was apparently as keen to work as Tony was. He was usually up in one of the labs by the time Tony was awake and had their breakfast ordered. And while he still left periodically to get Tony coffee and lunch for them both, there were nights when he was there even later than Tony was as well. It was both amazing, and stoked a slightly competitive streak in him. _He_  was the notorious workaholic, and _he_ wasn’t about to be outdone.

Overall though, it was a nice little addition to their routine. He wasn’t entirely sure what the other man was ever working on, but he didn’t ask either so that was probably his own fault.

And then, of course, something had to come in and break their sense of normalcy. Again.

“Sir, Mr. Barton is on the communal floor.”

Tony lowered the soldering gun, frowning at the newly rebuilt ceiling. There was no reason for the guy to be here, was there? He glanced across the lab, catching a brief shrug from Bruce.

“Did he say why? Or how he got in?” Tony asked, wiping the soot from his hands onto his jeans.

“He’s not saying anything,” J reported. “And, I should add, he has luggage with him.”

“Luggage,” Tony repeated.

All right so that was… weird. Even taking into account that Tony had offered over a month and a half ago that people could move in, the guy hadn’t even called, and Tony had exchanged maybe three sentences with the guy. But, it wasn’t the strangest thing that had happened in his life. Not by a long-shot, and not even using pre-Afghanistan standards.

“We should go see what he wants, then.” Bruce neatly brought down both of their projects, ignoring the sharp glare that Tony sent him for closing up his blueprints for the new model of the Iron Man suit.

Maybe he shouldn’t have offered for the entire team to come live here. He was doing just fine in the little bubble he built with Bruce and he got the sense that bringing in more people was going to ruin it. But it wasn’t like he could just kick the guy out. Probably.

Tony sighed, more petulant than he wanted to admit. “You go up. I should put on something… Not this.”

Bruce frowned a little bit, but didn’t argue with him, or ask questions, blessedly.  He just carefully sidestepped Tony on his way to the elevator, leaving him alone without even the bright displays up to distract him.

Maybe he was a little less awkward about the piece of technology that was keeping him alive when Bruce was involved. But Bruce wasn’t the only one up there waiting for him right now, and Tony didn’t want to deal with being insecure about it in front of a near-stranger. Not if he could help it.

Not to mention the fact that his hands were a soot-covered mess, which meant it was probably on his face too, and he liked giving the illusion that he was pretty well put together.

He quickly washed away the ash from his skin, pulling on a couple different shirts to at least dim the glow in his chest as well as decently nice jeans before heading up himself.

By the time he made it to the communal floor, Clint was already splayed across one of the couches, turning the subtitles on his television while he chatted animatedly with Bruce, who didn’t seem to be saying much in return.

“Hey, I was wondering when you’d turn up.” Clint pulled himself up, looking over the back of the couch to offer Tony a relaxed smile.

It was massively different than the stone faced man who he’d eaten shwarma with, and Tony wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that change, but he felt the slightest twinge of jealousy. Bruce seemed relatively at ease with the other man, and this was kind of why he didn’t want to bring anyone else into their lives.

“Well, looking this good takes effort.” He shrugged lightly, maybe offering up a smug little smile of his own in return. “What did I miss?”

Clint gestured to the TV, letting Tony see that he wasn’t wearing the hearing aids this time. “We’re going to watch Sharknado. Dr. Banner insisted we wait for you, so.”

Lord. Was that really what was happening? A quick glance at Bruce confirmed that… Yeah, this was probably happening. All he was actually getting was a vague headshake and a shrug, and that could mean _anything_. Tony wasn’t really even close to being fluent in ‘Bruce’ yet.

“For the record, he was the one who insisted we waited, not me.”

Tony curled himself up on the couch Bruce had taken, making sure to actually keep some semblance of space between them so that he didn’t have to overthink it if Bruce started shying away. Not that he did it that often, but hey.

Clint was quick to call Bruce a traitor but fired up the movie anyways, and there wasn’t much thinking going on at that point.

It was… Well. It was a fucking awful movie by anyone’s standards. The subtitles were a little distracting, but it’s not like he could say anything, right? Tony was an asshole, but he wasn’t that much of a dick.

Unless the other person pissed him off first, because then it counted as ‘justified’.

But as the horribly rendered action unfolded on screen, Tony found himself paying more and more attention to Bruce instead. And it was kind of cute how weirdly engrossed he was getting in the whole thing.

What he was really noticing, though, was the amount of space left on the couch between them. And at the time it had made sense to keep his distance, but… He was allowed to sprawl across his own couch, probably. And Bruce rarely actively moved Tony away from him.

Suggested he work somewhere else, sure. Maneuvering out from under him, yes.  But...

More fake blood spattered across the camera lens as Tony slid closer. Inch by inch until he was gently leaning against Bruce’s shoulder.

And when the only reaction he got was the slight tensing that Tony thought counted for ‘normal’, he took it as a small victory, with the added bonus of Clint not paying them much attention.

“You two know that half the fun in watching this is talking through it, right?” the man asked, eyes flickering from the screen to them after the credits had started rolling.

Bruce shrugged, somehow not actually jostling Tony in the process, and wasn’t that a skill. “I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact that this exists to begin with.”

“J said you brought luggage,” Tony interjected. Hopefully before this turned into some long discussion about why bad movies were so good. He liked pretending he was high-brow enough to not fall into that ‘trap’ around strangers. And geniuses he was trying to impress.

“J?” Clint repeated, focusing exclusively on Tony now.

Reading lips. Right. Maybe that’s why Bruce hadn’t complained out loud during the movie. Which actually explained why he hadn’t said anything to JARVIS earlier, but not really how he knew Tony came into the room. Or much of anything else.

“My AI,” he prompted. “He runs the place. Keeps an eye on people wandering around; all that fun stuff. Luggage?”

Clint shrugged, hands spread wide. “You said ‘free rent’, so…”

God, that was _really_  coming back to bite him now? “You know, when I offered that, I wasn’t actually serious.”

“I take rent-free _very_  seriously,” he countered, tongue sticking out.

And that really ruined any sort of uptight, badass impression that the man had initially made. It was kind of amazing that this was the guy who was running into battle—without fucking sleeves—with a bow and arrow like there weren’t aliens falling from the sky.

And here he was, lounging on the couch with his tongue out after watching arguably the best B-movie in recent memory.

“You shouldn’t offer free rent if you don’t want people to show up,” Bruce added, leaning away from Tony the slightest bit.

“Shut up, Banner, no one asked you.” Tony glanced over quizzically, hoping to figure out why he'd moved, only to catch the contrite way that Bruce's gaze dropped. Fuck. That was not the intention.

He nudged his knee against Bruce’s, careful not to close the space that the man had put between them, but he had to offer some kind of comfort. “Teasing. Relax.”

Tony only waited long enough for Bruce to nod tightly before letting himself settle back. “All right, let me think,” he told Clint. The guy’s floor was pretty much done anyway. He just had to remember where he put it. “I’m pretty sure… Floor 240 should be clear, if you want it.” Out of his periphery, he caught the strange look that Bruce threw him, but he ignored it for right now. Figure out an excuse for it or something.

That was apparently good enough for Clint, since the dirty blond offered a lazy salute, some quip Tony didn’t pay attention to, and then he was in the elevator. Presumably up to his new floor, and Tony was at least glad that he’d gotten some of the floors for the team done.

Even though he didn’t particularly want them to live there, as he kept reminding himself. And even though he’d have to figure out how to modify the Tower to work with Clint when he wasn’t wearing hearing aids.

“I thought you didn’t have any spare rooms,” Bruce commented once they were alone again.

Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Not even a few minutes to figure out how to lie his way out of this one?

All right, he could work with that. He’d made a career out of bullshitting people, but he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to go any further than he already was. “Well, 240 _was_  going to be yours, but I’m pretty sure Clint would be less happy to share a bed with me, so. You don’t mind waiting for the next one, do you? Should only be another couple of weeks.”

Actually. Maybe he should stop putting off designing Bruce’s room. His and Steve’s were the only ones that didn’t even have a design set yet.

He got the sense that Bruce was rolling his eyes at him, but he didn’t look over to check. The couch shifted as the man stood up. “It’s fine, Tony. Whenever you get it done.”

Footsteps retreated the same way Clint went, and Tony couldn’t quite bring himself to look up to watch him leave. Clint just had to go and mess things up for them, didn’t he?

But, he supposed, at least he bought himself a couple more weeks. There was still time to figure out how he was going to sleep in a bed by himself again.

It was such a low bar, and the longer Tony thought about it, the more he wanted to cringe. He was Tony fucking Stark. He shouldn’t be this stressed out about losing a platonic bed partner. The thought of sleeping alone shouldn’t set his teeth on edge, and yet…

And yet, it was 4:38 in the afternoon, and he was counting down the minutes until he could curl up in bed with Bruce and pretend that none of this was a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for continuing to read this ^^ Just so you know, I'm considering to moving to a bi-weekly update schedule, so if I don't manage to get the next chapter up, don't fret.  
> This is unbeta'd, any mistakes are mine and concrit is always appreciated. Your kudos and the like are also well loved


	5. Chapter 5

The fact that very little actually changed around the Tower was… anti-climactic, to say the least. Bruce still wasn’t pushing for when his room was going to be done, Clint wasn’t hanging around them all the time, and everything seemed to be almost like it had been before.

Mostly what had changed was the fact that Clint made breakfast when he was awake, bags of coffee would disappear, and Tuesdays became movie nights.

Well. And Bruce started pulling away a little more regularly. Maybe Bruce thought he was being subtle about it, by just gently moving Tony away while Clint’s string of ever-worsening movies continued. And then he stopped letting Tony mess with his work from over his shoulder.

Hell, Bruce tried to sleep on the far corner of the bed now, for fuck’s sake. No matter that usually when Tony woke up in the middle of the night they were right next to each other again, but Jesus.

It was starting to get on his nerves.

Pepper coming by wasn't really helping the cause either and it wasn't like she ever really invited herself over. Add that to the fact JARVIS never really asked before letting her in, which was just all around stressful. Even though Clint was instantly smitten with her and was constantly asking for embarrassing stories every single time they happened to be in a room together.

Which, thank god, wasn't terribly often.

"You know, you don't have to keep checking in on me. Someone would let you know if something happened," Tony said, completely offhand when she turned up for the third time in two weeks.

Pepper shrugged, glancing into the sitting room from the kitchen, where he'd led her to when she'd come in again.

"I like making sure you're all right. Is that such a crime, Tony?" she asked. Though, there was a soft flicker of... Of something in her eyes. Something Tony couldn't decipher in time before it was gone. "It's a dangerous life you're living. I worry; you know I do."

And he did. Tony sighed, pinching his nose. "You worry too much, Pep. I know I told you this a million times before, but it's true. You don't have to fret over every little thing that happens in my life."

"Yes, but with current company..."

Oh god, this again. He leveled a sharp glare at her, gently tugging her the slightest bit closer. Just because neither of his housemates were currently looking at them…

"He's not dangerous," he said softly, heatedly. Jesus fuck, why was this still an issue? How many times was Tony going to have to say this to Pepper before she finally left it be? "For fuck's sake, Pep. I would know if he was dangerous by now, and the absolute worst he's done since being here is..."

Actually, when he stopped to think about it, there was nothing. No dropped lab equipment, no awkward bumping into tables, chairs, Tony... Nothing. Everything was perfectly calm around him all the time, and somehow it had completely slipped his notice.

Pepper seemed to hear something different in his silence, though. "Tony, it's not him that I'm worried about; it's—"

"Not even a glimpse of green. Are you really going to pull this argument with me? Why does everyone insist on only seeing the other guy when they look at him? He hasn't even gotten anymore than mildly irritated since getting here. And if he has been, it’s probably because you’re putting him on edge all the time."

By the look on her face, one would think that Tony had just slapped her. And some part of him felt as awful as if he just had. He ran his hands through his hair, resisting the urge to pull, to ground himself through the slightest touch of pain.

"He's fine, Pepper. Nothing's been broken. Not a shade of green. He's fine, he's safe. He's been in my _bed_ , for God's sake. I would know if something was going on."

She sucked in a sharp breath, hazel eyes wide as her skin managed to pale further. "You're sharing a—Tony!" Pepper smacked his shoulder, not hard enough to hurt but enough to drive her point home. "I leave you alone for a few months, and you've managed to trip one of the most dangerous men into your bed. And what, you're going to kick him out like the others when you’re done with him?"

That stung more than any sort of blow she could have dealt him. And in the back of his mind, he was sure that she was just worried. It was fear speaking. Fear, and more experience than she should have, kicking dozens of women out of his Malibu home before they had even gotten together properly.

"It's not like that," he hissed, glancing back into the room. No one was looking. There was no obvious tension between Clint and Bruce. If he was lucky, they hadn't heard a thing.

Still, to be safe… He motioned for Pepper to follow, going into a separate part of the floor where there were actual walls between them and the movie-watchers.

“It’s platonic,” he swore. “It’s just… We’re just sharing a bed for now. We’re not sleeping together or anything like that. And no, I’m not going to kick him out over anything. Have you seen his work?”

There was an oddly pinched look on her face and Tony couldn’t for the life of him figure it out. It was somewhere between anxious and exasperated.

Tony raised a hand to ward of any sort of disapproving remarks she could add. “Just… It’s only for a little bit, ok?”

Whatever sort of retort Pepper may have had remained unspoken. Tony wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

* * *

Bruce started handing him things.

Cups of coffee. The occasional file that he was supposed to go over for the company’s sake. And Tony wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say something or if this was Bruce being passive aggressive about something, and it just threw him off.

Whatever was causing all of this change around them, Tony didn’t like it.

* * *

His tools started falling to the floor more and more as the day went on. And maybe Bruce didn’t notice, but the more it happened, the more Tony’s hands shook, which just made the problem worse. If Pepper was here, she would say he needed to take a break. But she wasn’t there, so he kept working.

What he really needed was to get the suit’s redesign done.

Maybe he needed a drink as well.

But apparently Bruce wasn’t as oblivious as he’d taken to acting, because when his wrench slipped from his hand to the floor, Bruce gently wrapped his fingers around Tony’s wrist before he could reach for it.

“You’re getting overwrought,” he said softly.

And of course it was only then that Tony could see that his hands were visibly shaking. Humiliating. He pulled away from Bruce, waving dismissively, praying that at least his complexion would hide the way his face warmed at the realization. “It’s nothing. I can finish this up no problem.”

Bruce pursed his lips, kneeling down to pick up the wrench and slipping it into the pocket of his lab coat.

As if Tony didn’t have at least another two lying around so he could get back to work.

“I know you can finish it up. But you’ll be able to do it faster and more effectively if you do it later.”

“I just need—“ He faltered, gesturing vaguely to the boot he’d been working on. He needed it done. If something worse came down on New York, his suit wouldn’t be able to handle it. It needed to be better, stronger, it just…

“You need it to work. But it will work better if you work on it with clear eyes.” There was a moment of hesitation before Bruce grasped Tony’s shoulder. “Go downstairs. Call Pepper, maybe, or watch something with Clint. Nothing’s going to come and get us today. You have time.”

Like Tony could let Clint see him like this. And he and Pepper were somehow on worse terms than they were immediately following their breakup so she was out of the question.

But it’s not like he could tell Bruce either of those things. Not when he was trying to convince the man that he was more stable than not and definitely a good candidate for… God, whatever. Tony didn’t care; he’d take whatever Bruce wanted to give him.

So he faked it. Offered a terse smile and nod before leaving the lab, only to curl up on the floor of their shared bedroom, working on his blueprints from a tablet until it was roughly the time Bruce would show up for bed.

And if Tony left the minute he was sure Bruce was asleep to try and work on the real thing, then that was no one’s business but his own.

* * *

Tony wasn’t entirely sure when Natasha started showing up. But he was pretty sure that JARVIS never alerted him to her arrivals, and it didn’t seem like she ever stayed very long.

But every now and then, some of Tony’s chocolate stash went missing, or there would be a cup that wouldn’t turn up for a few days and there were times that either he or Bruce would find Natasha lounging on the kitchen counter as Clint fussed over mission-related injuries.

There was a chance that Tony was just going to have to get used to sharing the building.

Maybe he’d talk Pepper into renaming the building the Avengers Tower instead of Stark Tower. Maybe.

* * *

Pepper was trying, Tony realized. She was chatting with Bruce upon occasion, though the undertones of her voice were still clipped. Still wary, but overall, he thought it was going well. Tony hadn’t thought twice about her showing up in the lab, even if Bruce seemed visibly anxious about it.

Tony had been contenting himself with his work while they talked. The suit still needed upgrading, because he was so sure he could get a little more time between charges on it. And he would have been fine worrying over the numbers, except there was a snippet of conversation that just had to overhear.

“So, were you not a fan of the guest rooms? Tony spent ages picking out furniture for them all.”

Tony froze, eyes fixated on the bright holograms in front of him. The numbers flitting by his eyes even though his brain had stopped processing them. Shit. _Shit_. He didn’t dare look over as he tried to figure out if he could conceivably get out of the room before Pepper exposed him.

Why the hell hadn’t he thought to keep them away from each other? Especially when Pepper had already expressed that to him that she didn’t think they should share a room? Of course she’d try and figure out why they were… cohabitating or whatever.

And it wasn’t like Tony had been too keen to explain that he was lying to Bruce about it.

“Guest rooms?” Bruce repeated. “I thought they were still being finished.”

He could feel the sharpness of her hazel eyes as they glared at him. “That was one of the first things that Tony got done. The workshops, a place for him to sleep, then the guest rooms. I don’t know why he wouldn’t mention it earlier…”

Tony could practically feel it all slip away. Any chance at all of Bruce and him becoming a thing turned to dust, and he looked up at the man as if he could convince him to hold on with just his eyes.

Except the second their gazes met, Tony could see all the walls back up behind Bruce’s eyes. His face hard, impassive. And then it faded into careful neutrality as he looked back to Pepper. “I was told there weren’t any guest rooms.” He offered a tight smile before sidestepping her to go back to the reports J was offering him.

“You were…”

Yeah, she was going to be furious with him. If he thought he’d fucked up by not telling her that he had been literally dying, this somehow felt worse.

Pepper sighed sharply, and Tony could just picture her pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. I’ll have a—“

“Tony, can I have a moment?” Bruce asked, apparently just ignoring Pepper’s words.

He tensed up, and he was pretty sure all the blood had drained from his face during the exchange. His hands lifted defensively as he stepped back, thinking that maybe he could buy himself a little more time.

But apparently Bruce wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer, since he took Tony by the elbow and honestly pulled him out of the lab without even having J save their work.

Though, JARVIS did notify them that Pepper had left, but that she would be back the next day.

Bruce didn’t stop long enough to acknowledge the program, not letting go of Tony until they were in the communal room, where Nat took one look at the pair of them before making herself scarce. Which meant that Tony was going to have to deal with this by himself.

“How long?” he asked softly, his back to Tony. Bruce’s fists were tight by his sides for a brief moment, and Tony wasn’t sure if it was better or worse when they loosened.

Tony flinched at the bluntness of the question, hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt for lack of another prop. “How long what?” he tried, well aware that he was just delaying the inevitable. And the inevitable was probably going to be getting yelled at by Bruce Banner.

He sighed sharply, pulling off his glasses as he turned around. “How long did you plan on lying to me about this?”

There it was, Tony thought bitterly. The crux of the actual problem. Tony knew he’d have to give Bruce his own space eventually. And the new carpet had finally been installed, so there’d been no real need to continue sharing but… Had there ever, really?

“I don’t know,” he hedged.

“Tell me why.”

Tony didn’t dare look up, still fidgeting. Bruce was _beyond_ not pleased with him, and he couldn’t even claim to not understand why. What even was he supposed to say to that? ‘Because I was scared’? ‘Because you wouldn’t stay otherwise’? No. Tony could barely admit that to himself, much less to Bruce.

“Tell me,” Bruce repeated, vaguely reminding Tony of the way he had sounded when he’d been brandishing Loki’s staff. “You owe me that much. Did you think it was funny? Was it some long winded plan to get into my pants? _Why_?”

Tony visibly flinched, struggling to find the air to breathe. He was fine. This was fine. There was no need for him to be feeling like this. He wasn’t falling out of the sky; there wasn’t someone threatening to tear the reactor out of his chest. Whatever panicky feeling he had going on was unnecessary. “I just…” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely. “I wasn’t trying to use you. And I never wanted anything from you, but I…”

It shouldn’t be this hard. But then, he’d thought it shouldn’t be so hard to make it work with Pepper either. And as different as those scenarios were, they both made his blood feel like ice.

He had to get out of there. Escape. Something. And he had to at least _act_  like Tony fucking Stark, even if he felt like a shadow of that arrogant façade he paraded around to the public.

Tony forced himself to straighten up, and look just to the left of Bruce’s shoulder. Making sure to not actually look at Bruce’s face. “234 is yours. If you want; I get if you want to leave and never see me again, but…” He shrugged, painting on a bland smile as easy as ever. Thirty plus years of practice, he supposed.”Floors above and below are empty, if that’s important.”

“Tony—“

He waved dismissively, backing up and blindly sidestepping the kitchen counter. “Just if you want it. No pressure.” There was a sinking feeling that it wasn’t going to matter. That Bruce was still going to leave like every other good thing in his life.

And maybe he was a coward for leaving things at that. For turning gracelessly enough to knock over a chair, for all but bolting towards the elevator while still trying to look casual about it.

For not even being able to look Bruce in the eye.

But then, Tony never claimed to be brave. He’d just let other people come to that conclusion on their own.

JARVIS locked down the lab the second Tony was inside. Communications were shut down shortly after, just in case. Nothing short of a world-threatening emergency was going to get him out of the lab for the next three days if he could help it.

And if his AI sounded disapproving, well… Tony could just ignore that too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I recognize that I'm an awful person for leaving this hanging for a month and then ending the chapter like that and I'm so sorry about that orz I've been in pre-con panic mode for the past month and I'm finally getting caught up to the point where I can sit down and write without getting antsy over it.  
> But thank you to everyone for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoy. Kudos, comments and concrit are greatly appreciated. This is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own.


	6. Chapter 6

It wasn’t even eighteen hours before JARVIS let Pepper in, and it wasn’t until Tony heard the click of her heels against the cement floor that he remembered that he hadn’t revoked her override codes. Not even eighteen hours, and he was already wishing that he’d rebuilt his liquor stash in the labs, but at least Pepper couldn’t add his ‘alcoholism’ to the list of things to lecture him about right now.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go so well,” she said mildly.

Tony didn’t look up from the thruster he was trying to fix. Honestly though, it felt like it was in worse shape now than when he had started ‘improving’ it. He couldn’t disagree with her, but that didn’t mean he wanted to agree with her out loud. His ego had taken enough hits as it was.

That didn’t seem to deter Pepper, even though he now couldn’t hear her approach before she pressed her hand over his. “Tony,” she insisted softly.

“I don’t want to talk about him.” The words sounded painfully flat, and Tony couldn’t help but sigh. This was out of control, even for him. Spiraling like this so fast? It wasn’t even in his loose definition of normal.

She gently squeezed his hand and set her heels on the work table. That would explain her silent approach, at least. “Come on,” Pepper said, tugging him away.

He couldn’t even find the energy to argue with her. Tony was so tired of being on edge and fighting with Pepper. So he let her guide him to the worn out couch that he’d shipped over from his Malibu home.

“Look, I know you don’t want to hear this now,” she stared, curling up next to him on the cushions. “But you’re not good with people, Tony.”

Well. That wasn’t the uplifting talk he’d half hoped for. “Pep…”

She hushed him quickly as she guided Tony to lean against her side. “I’m not going to yell at you. And I’m not trying to hurt you, but it’s true. You don’t communicate with people very well, and whatever it is you were trying to do with Bruce…”

Of course she wasn’t going to drop it. Tony wouldn’t have kept her around, as an employee or in any kind of personal relationship, if she was anything less than tenacious. Still, he let himself relax, resting his forehead against the swell of her breasts. “Aren’t you supposed to be nice to me? You know with the whole…”

She scoffed, maneuvering him to lie on her shoulder instead. “I love you. You know I do. But your idea of charming someone is to sleep with them and not talk about it.”

“It worked with you, didn’t it?”

Shit. He shouldn’t have asked that. It had been over a year; Tony didn’t need to keep seeking out validation from his soulmate.

For a while, neither of them spoke, and Tony knew he should learn to just keep quiet. It wasn’t fair to her. To either of them, really. And he knew that, but sometimes he just couldn’t stop himself.

“Why don’t you tell me why you lied to Dr. Banner,” she prompted instead. Pepper didn’t even pretend to answer, and maybe that was a blessing.

Except he still didn’t want to touch that topic with a ten foot poll. Tony whined softly, hoping to get out of the conversation by being pathetic enough. “Pepper, come on…”

“Tony, you need to tell me. I know you said it was completely platonic, but that’s not like you. You have literally tried to sleep with everyone you’ve shared a bed with since I’ve known you, and according to Rhodey that habit goes back to when you were in college.”

Well. That was more true than not, he supposed. Tony had well earned the reputation of playing fast, loose, and easy. That didn’t mean he wanted to cop to it, or explain how it was different with Bruce. How he was after more with the guy.

The silence settled over them for long minutes. Tony felt tired. Grimy. As if he had been down here for days on end. It was a far cry from how contentedly he’d been working away not even a full day prior, when he’d felt calm, rested…

Pepper didn’t seem to mind that he was probably ruining her blouse by proximity. He made a mental note to pay for it to be dry cleaned just in case. And he should buy her something nice as well for dealing with this.

As much as they had been fighting ever since Afghanistan, he still loved her. Still wanted her to be happy, even though it became clear that they couldn’t be together like they were ‘supposed’ to be. And maybe that’s why he decided to finally admit to it aloud. He owed her that much.

“I didn’t want to be alone.” The words burned his throat, but the way her eyes softened almost felt worse. He recognized the pity. He didn’t want that.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, tiny nicks scattered across the otherwise unblemished skin. Nicks that were Tony’s fault. “You should have told him that to begin with. And I know you know that.”

“Because that would have gone so well…”

“Tony.”

He sighed, straightening up and shrugging her hand off. “I know. But you also know why I didn’t, so I don’t know why you’re bringing it up.”

Pepper cupped his cheek, turning his face so he had to meet her gaze. “Because I care about you. I told you, remember?”

Tony frowned before standing up. No more pity, no more… weird pep talks. He was going to have to be all right with this. “You don’t even like him, though. So why does it matter to you why I wanted him to stay? I figured you’d be happy that he was probably going to leave.”

She scoffed, standing up herself and smoothing out her skirt. “Of course I’m not going to be happy when you get like this. Whether I like him or not, you’re happy to have him around, and that should matter to you more than whether or not I like it.” Pepper paused for a moment before leaning down to kiss his temple. “I’ll be around if you need me. But you’ve survived more difficult things than being dumped, and you’ll get through this as well.”

It was hardly the kind of goodbye he’d been hoping for, but maybe it was better that way. Pepper only paused long enough to put her heels back on before leaving the lab.

She was right, Tony thought as he went back to his work bench. This wasn’t actually the end of the world.

That didn’t mean he was going to try and face it just yet.

* * *

According to JARVIS, it had been 29 hours since he more or less locked himself up in the lab to hide from Bruce. Tony didn’t ask if the man was still there, but he did leave his self-imposed exile. There was a difference between a flair for dramatics and acting like a heartbroken teenager, and he preferred to only be accused of the former.

Though, there weren’t a lot of people who could accuse him of the latter in this instance. It wasn’t like their fight had been in front of anyone else.

Tony found himself in the communal kitchen, rifling through the cupboards around tea boxes he didn’t buy and cheap coffee blends that definitely weren’t his until he found his own stash.

Maybe he should just keep his own coffee on his floor, because there were supposed to be five bags and there were only two left. And he was pretty sure that Clint was responsible.

He felt exhausted. He felt exhausted, and grimy, and not even remotely presentable for the public. And when he finally did get his coffee brewed, he couldn’t bring himself to do much more than stare at it.

It was quieter up here than it was in his lab. Tony wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but at least he was handling it better than he’d handled the lack of noise after the wormhole incident. Maybe he’d be ok sleeping on his own.

“He’s not going to leave.”

Tony just about dropped the coffee he had spent the last five minutes staring at before looking up to glare at the redhead who was lounging on the counter as if she had been there for hours, in spite of the fact that she was nowhere to be seen while he was making his drink.

Natasha looked up from her phone just long enough to acknowledge him before going back to tapping away at her screen.

And maybe Tony was delusional, but he swore he could faintly hear some kind of high score chime coming from it.

“Dr. Banner. He’s never had qualms about picking up and leaving. If he was going to run, he would already be in the wind.” She shrugged carelessly, standing up and looking unfairly graceful in spite of her oversized MIT sweatshirt as she almost flounced away.

Wait. That was his, actually.

“Did you seriously just come down here to try and cheer me up?” he asked to her retreating back. “Because that’s the second time this has happened today, and I’m pretty sure I actually need it.”

She glanced back at him, a considering look on her face. “It’s nice, though. Even if you don’t need it.” There was maybe a hint of a smile on Natasha’s face as she turned back, asking JARVIS to send her an elevator.

Tony wasn’t even sure what to do with that. He was used to his own space, and to his privacy in spite of how public a show he tended to put on, and now there were _people_  around almost constantly, and he wasn’t entirely sure when or how they settled in.

Maybe he ought to just stick to his own personal floors, since apparently team pep talks were a thing now. Even if he hadn’t pegged Natasha to be even remotely the type to give them.

It was another twenty minutes of sitting at the kitchen counter before Tony reluctantly dumped his now-cool coffee down the drain and went up to his room. He hadn’t even managed to start drinking it.

Sleep would maybe fix at least part of his problems. And he’d be able to forget the rest for at least a little while if he was lucky.

All he had to do was not think about how cold and empty his bed felt, and how quiet the room was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly early update, yay? Even though it's more of an interlude than anything. My outline for the next couple chapters is a little sketchy, so it might be a bit before I'm formally back to a once-a-week update schedule, unless I can avoid falling into a rut.  
> As always, thank you for reading; this is unbeta'd and concrit is appreciated. Also comments in general are appreciated, as well as kudos *hint hint nudge nudge*


	7. Chapter 7

Apparently Tony had managed to drift off, because a sudden rush of light startled him awake. He rubbed his eyes groggily, trying to make himself focus on who the hell was in his room.

The last person he expected to see was Bruce, looking the slightest bit contrite as the lights in the room dimmed. “JARVIS said not to expect you to be back up for another day or so,” he said softly as he walked towards the closest to change as if they _hadn’t_ just fought about them sharing a room.

Maybe that had been dream? Some kind of weirdly vivid dream, like the ones that he usually only had after binge working for days on end. “You’re mad at me,” Tony pointed out, even though it looked like Bruce wasn’t even remotely irritated.

That earned him a soft sigh as Bruce folded up his glasses and set them aside. “Am I angry that you didn’t tell me? Yes. But did you really think that I didn’t know?” Bruce offered him a withering look before pulling the closet door shut behind him. “What exactly did you think I was doing while you were rebuilding the tower? Sitting around and doing nothing?” Tony heard him scoff, and he was pretty damn sure that Bruce was rolling his eyes. “And then when you _were_ finished, did you think I didn’t notice that what you were working on was nothing but lab space?”

Tony wasn’t sure what to say to that. He was still reeling over how hard Bruce’s eyes had been back in the lab and trying to wrap his head around the fact that this conversation was actually happening, because Tony was pretty sure this wasn’t something he was dreaming up. He wouldn’t be this confused if it was a dream. “But… In the lab… And the kitchen?”

Bruce stepped out of the closet, and Tony was _actually_ sure that those were his sweatpants that Bruce had changed into.

Had he remembered to buy Bruce the wardrobe he’d been planning, or had that fallen by the wayside at some point? Tony really needed to get on that, as much as he appreciated seeing the guy in his clothes.

He rubbed the back of his neck, shuffling a bit awkwardly. “Sorry… I didn’t think you would shut down like that. I _did_ want answers, but… Well. You didn’t seem keen to give me any, and I thought Ms. Potts gave me a good opportunity to get them.”

Tony stared blankly at him, trying to process this all. A good opportunity. Bruce standing there like everything was fine, because he’d never been actually furious at Tony over this in spite of the way Bruce _literally_ dragged him out of the lab.

He wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or pissed off. But he definitely felt more than a little humiliated, because Bruce had played him so easily, and for what? An explanation he hadn’t even gotten.

“Hey…” Bruce’s hand was suddenly on the bed, not touching Tony but close to it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would react like that. If I thought you would take it so hard, I would have kept waiting for you to tell me in your own time.”

Part of Tony wanted to pull away, to kick Bruce out and not speak to him again. That wasn’t the part of him in control, apparently, since he reached out to grasp his hand instead. “Maybe don’t do that again? I have a heart condition, you know,” he teased weakly. Even though his heart did feel a little shaky right now, but at least the rest of him felt pretty stable.

Bruce offered a self-deprecating smile before ducking his head. “In retrospect, I shouldn’t have done it to begin with. I promise I won’t use any more scare tactics on you.” Almost hesitantly, he pulled his hand back only to climb under the blankets making sure to keep to ‘his’ side of the bed.

Tony wasn’t sure if this was intentional or not. If Bruce was trying to keep him off balance and unsure of himself, or if Tony was just too slow to keep up.

“So, what are we doing here?” he asked, feeling like an idiot. But, better an idiot than being in the dark.

Bruce rolled his eyes, setting his hand on top of Tony’s again. “You know, for a world-renowned genius, you’re not quite the brightest sometimes.”

“So I’ve been told,” Tony muttered petulantly. It was strange. Too strange even for Tony’s ever loosening definition of ‘normal’. Even if Bruce wasn’t mad about the room thing, he couldn’t ignore the fact that they had fought. That things had been getting progressively more stilted between them the longer they were together.

“I mean, are you staying up here? I did get a floor ready for you. Well. The accent rug hasn’t come in yet, but everything else is done. It’s nice.”

“I know it’s nice. I appreciate the size of the kitchen.” Bruce gently squeezed his fingers before pulling away. “It’s just for tonight. I’ll be back on my floor tomorrow; I just…” He trailed off, and Tony heard more than saw the shrug that finished his sentence.

Maybe this was pity too, in a different way. Not quite the same as the way Pepper would look at him sadly and try to coddle him, but Tony was pretty sure it was the same sentiment. He just didn't want to risk pushing away this time, because god knew that Bruce was more likely to leave than Pep was. He had to be more careful of his interactions. Not like how he'd monitor how he spoke around the rest of the team, or how most people were delicate when Bruce was concerned. But Tony didn't want to risk pushing him away. Not when he was so close to losing him.

Well. Apparently he hadn't really been close to losing him, but it was still there in the back of his mind. Just like back when Bruce was saying that he would leave as the next day, or as soon as Loki and Thor had left. Maybe there was another 'I'm staying until this happens' coming up.

But Tony didn't try voicing any of that right then. Maybe he wouldn't ever say anything like that. But there was something sort of reassuring that at least Bruce seemed to appreciate what Tony had done to his floor. And that he didn't just appreciate the minor Hulk proofing that he'd done, as subtle as it had been and as much as he disliked doing it.

Whether or not Tony thought that the other guy was a threat, Bruce seemed to think so. And the floor was designed for Bruce, and not Tony, so reinforcing was a thing that happened.

"You don't have to stay for my sake, you know. I'll be fine if you want to go to your own bed or whatever. You don't need..."

Wait. That was exactly what he was trying _not_ to do. He didn't want Bruce to leave, so why...

Fuck. This whole 'feelings' business was more trouble than it was really worth. No wonder he usually stuck to casual flings that he didn't particularly care about.

Bruce sighed, reaching out to press fingertips to Tony's temple for some unknown reason. He wasn't running a fever or anything for Bruce to be checking, but that didn't stop him from leaning into the touch anyways. "I know. But I feel like I owed you some kind of explanation after you ran away from me."

And didn't that just feel like a kick to the chest? Running away from Bruce... Well. He supposed that was more or less what he had done. Even if that's not how it had felt at the time. "You explained, though. No harm done, but don't do it again, all that jazz. You don't have to force yourself to stay here or anything. It's fine, really."

There was some kind of sobering look in Bruce's eyes before he turned over, putting his back to Tony. "And you don't have to try and play martyr. I'm staying. Stop fretting."

If only it was that simple. But he didn’t say anything else, and instead just tried to figure out how to match his breathing to Bruce so he could at least act like he was sleeping instead.

It felt like hours passed, but he didn’t hear Bruce’s breath even out.  They were both awake, and neither of them spoke. Tony didn’t want to risk losing a second of this, because he was pretty damn sure it was going to be the last time he got this.

* * *

True to his word, Bruce stayed on his own floor after that. It didn’t change the fact that they still spent most of their time in the lab together, or that they shared a couch during team movie nights, but Tony was pretty sure they weren’t as close as they once were. There were times when Bruce felt more distant than when Clint had first moved in. And that was probably partially his fault too, because there was something off-putting about how easy it had been for Bruce to push his buttons so thoroughly

That said, he still tried to keep in Bruce's space during movie nights. And it was taking him longer and longer to move Tony’s feet away when he sprawled across the couch and onto Bruce, so that was a small victory.

* * *

Steve was the next person to be coaxed into coming to the tower. He was ostensibly not moving in, despite Tony insisting multiple times that it was a good thing they had going there and that he even took down all the American flags he’d set up around the blonde’s room.

Not that Tony ever actually covered the room in flags, but that wasn’t the point.

J had sold him out in short order, blandly pointing out that, “Sir never even mentioned flags while planning the room design”. Tony was convinced there was something a little more open about Steve’s smile at that. Something different from that polite smile he usually wore with Tony.

Movie nights were a little difficult with Steve around, though. Everyone had different opinions on what he needed to catch up on first, because while Natasha insisted on Disney, Tony thought Star Wars would be a better choice.

Bruce called him a heathen for that, actually.

“How can you recommend Star Wars over Star Trek?” he asked with a horrified look on his face as he held the popcorn hostage.

Poor Steve looked more or less lost before Clint settled it by putting in Lord of the Rings while the rest of the team bickered. But at least the blond looked more or less content when he left for the night. That almost made up for the trouble of arguing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to assume I'm back on track, and will stop trying to warn you that it'll be a while, because apparently that's enough motivation to keep me writing. Or. I just insist on being contrary to myself, which is more probable. That said, I am going to be at a convention this weekend (because Stan Lee is coming and I might die) so there's the chance I'll try and get the update up a bit early because of it.  
> As always, thanks for reading, leaving kudos, commenting, etc. You guys really give me life and compel me to keep going <3 I love you all, even though I don't know you


	8. Chapter 8

Since Lord of the Rings had gone over so well with Steve, there was some kind of mutual team agreement that Clint was in charge of picking movies when the supersoldier was over. Everyone else was allowed suggestions, with the exception of Natasha.

She’d lost movie-picking privileges after trying to get them to watch Hostel two weeks in a row, and Tony had been disproportionately pleased each time it failed. Gore movies had never been his thing, and they had become even less of his thing after being held captive himself. He didn’t want to think about why Nat was still all right with that type of movie, but he got a sense that it was just how she coped.

After about a month of doing this, they had fallen into patterns, it seemed. Clint and Natasha would cuddle up in an armchair only moving when Clint would get more pizza or Natasha would take some time to try and play matchmaker with Steve.

Steve usually got one of the couches to himself, and didn’t join in a lot of the commentary. He tried being as unobtrusive as possible, which wasn’t plausible given the size of him.

Tony and Bruce took opposites sides of the same couch. Tony would usually try to put his feet on Bruce’s lap about halfway through the movie, but was usually moved off within ten minutes.

Tonight was much of the same, and there was some kind of comfort to it, honestly. Tony never really had a lot of stability in his life, and as much as he thrived in the unpredictability of it… This was nice too.

“Is there a reason the animation is so weird?” Bruce asked, not even twenty minutes into 300. “I mean, I understand stylization is a thing, but this seems a little extreme.”

Tony shrugged a bit, gently nudging his toes against Bruce’s thigh. “It’s just how it is. I don’t know.”

“Is it going to be like this the whole movie?”

That was enough to prompt Clint to pause the whole movie, and almost everyone in the entire room turned to look at Bruce. “Have you not seen this before?” he asked, fiddling with his hearing aids.

Bruce seemed to shrink a bit from the sudden attention on him. “I never really got the opportunity to, no. I’ve been busy.”

“How have you not seen this? Everyone has seen this,” Clint more or less demanded, leaning forward over Natasha.

“I haven’t seen it,” Steve added, glancing placatingly over at Bruce, and then Tony. Either he thought this was going to turn into some sort of fight, or he just didn’t want anyone to be raising a fuss. Tony wasn’t entirely sure which.

“Everyone but Steve has seen this,” Clint amended.

Bruce sighed, sliding Tony’s feet back towards his side of the couch. “I’m pretty sure I was on the run when this came out. There weren’t really a lot of opportunities to keep up with movies when hiding in Southeast Asia.”

That… Oh god. Tony had forgotten about that. How did he forget about that? He knew that was why Bruce didn’t have much wardrobe--a problem that Tony was working on rectifying--and why someone had been sent to track him down to begin with. But for some reason, that didn’t connect to Bruce being mostly cut off from society for… However many years he’d been hiding.

“I’m surprised Tony let you get away with that,” Natasha said, casually pulling Clint back so she could lay against his chest. “I missed one James Bond movie on a mission, and the first thing he does when I get back is put on a pirated copy of it and make me watch it while he stitched up my side.”

 

“Tash…” Clint more or less pouted, propping his chin on her shoulder.

That got him a ‘shush’ with an indulgent smile. “Turn the movie back on. I won’t tease you anymore.”

The rest of the movie passed by in relative silence, since Tony’s regular bickering partner hadn’t seen the movie yet. He tried a couple more times to stretch into Bruce’s space, but somewhere towards the third act, he caught Steve looking at them and promptly stopped, feeling very much like it was grade school and the teacher caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

* * *

Generally, Tony went out of his way not to rewatch movies he’d disliked. But at the same time, if Bruce had missed these, it would be torture to make him watch them alone.

“Did you really lock down the lab for the day?” Bruce asked, walking onto Tony’s floor for the first time since… Well. Since Bruce took pity on him for one night after Tony’s self-imposed exile.

But really, Bruce had bad timing. Tony had barely gotten the popcorn started, and the obligatory unskippable previews were still playing on the television screen. Hell, he hadn’t even gotten the chance to ask Bruce to come up, and here he was anyways.

For a few seconds, Tony just looked at him, ignoring the whir of the microwave and the loudness of the popping kernels. “You were supposed to wait until I asked you to come up.”

“Tony, I was in the middle of something when JARVIS informed me that the labs were being shut down. What are you doing?”

Tony got the vague sense that maybe he miscalculated. Maybe he should have thought this through and  _ asked _ before shutting down the labs. In his head, this had worked out a lot better. It was going to be almost sweet if it had gone right.

“Something that Nat said,” Tony said, waving dismissively. “I figured we could watch some movies? If that’s all right.” 

That was all right, wasn’t it? For them to be social outside the lab, and outside the team. After all, before they got derailed, that was kind of where Tony was trying to get them.

Bruce, while giving him a wary look, didn’t seem to be immediately running away or coming up with excuses. But he did glance at the television and that look quickly fell to something closer to shock. “You want to watch the Star Wars prequels?”

He hid a wince at the thought. It wasn’t that he  _ wanted  _ to watch the Star Wars prequels. But he was pretty sure that Bruce had missed them, since his disappearance, and, well… “We could watch something else if you wanted.”

“No, it’s… Fine.”

Maybe it was a bad idea. Tony wasn’t sure what to do about Bruce’s hesitance, but what else was new? Besides, it wasn’t like it was the worst thing in the world.

Well. It might be. But that wasn’t the point.

So, Tony just shrugged it off and emptied the (mostly) unburned popcorn into a bowl. If Bruce wasn’t going to say no, then he wasn’t going to try and backpedal and change course. Not on this, at least. It would be fine, he was sure.

The first movie… Well. It went about as well as could be expected. Bruce looked wholly unimpressed, and Tony tried to mask his boredom by going through most of the popcorn by himself. And right about now, he was vaguely regretting not getting couches for his own floor. It would be at least bearable if he could occupy himself with inching into Bruce’s space.

Granted, when Tony asked J to start the second one, Bruce just sighed and volunteered to make the next batch of popcorn, insisting that he could watch it from the kitchenette for a few minutes.

It did give Tony an excuse to move his chair closer to Bruce’s at least. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

“You’re not subtle,” Bruce informed as he placed the popcorn in Tony’s lap.

He huffed, almost glaring at the man as he flicked a few retaliatory pieces at him. “Can you blame me for wanting to stay close? I mean, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a very tactile person. And if you haven’t noticed, I might have to revoke your genius card.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, focusing back on the movie, which meant that Tony should probably shut up. Whether or not it was a good movie, it was probably Bruce’s first time watching it.

It would have to be, right? He doubted Bruce would stand for sitting through them twice, considering his Star Trek preference.

Tony spent quite a bit of the first act shifting in his seat, debating whether or not he cared if he was being subtle or not. Clearly Bruce didn’t think he was. But wasn’t he pretty infamous for not minding tact anyways? It shouldn’t matter. Besides, it didn’t seem to affect how Bruce was treating him, so far. And, after all, subtle probably wasn’t going to get him to convince Bruce to let him close.

It took a better half of the movie for Tony finally accomplished his goal, draping his legs over and onto Bruce. Half a movie that Tony had tuned out, except when he added the odd snarky comment that would always get a decent response.

Bruce sighed, pulling his glasses off so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t stopping, is it? You’re just going to keep…” He gestured vaguely, not even in any discernable direction which was sort of impressive.

And really, if Tony was given the chance to play willfully oblivious, he was going to take it. “Well, there’s another movie after this, but I think we’re almost done with this one.”

“Not what I meant, but there’s hope on that front.” Bruce grimaced, settling a hand over Tony’s ankles.

That was a sign for Tony to prepare to move, but instead Bruce’s hand just stayed where it was, a grounding weight as the movie dragged on.

The weird, fledgling romance continued to play out on-screen as Bruce took to absently stroking over Tony’s ankles. Which was weird, but definitely in a good way.

He slunk further down, trying to push even closer in spite of the space between their chairs and the fact that he was getting dangerously close to ending up in some kind of precarious position that would be the opposite of charming.

Though, judging by the scoff, Bruce thought it was at least a little endearing.

“You really are incorrigible,” Bruce muttered with a roll of his eyes.

“Is that really such a bad thing?” Tony countered, sure enough of himself to stay where he was instead of pulling himself back into his seat.

“Not as bad as this, at least.”

Tony grinned, finally focusing back on the movie that Bruce needed to see just to get caught back up. And apparently he tuned in right at the moment that Anakin started bitching about sand.

Abruptly, Bruce stood up and completely knocked Tony’s balance off enough that he almost ended up on the floor. “Yeah, no. I can’t do this.”

It took a few seconds for Tony to reorient himself, eyes wide as he watched Bruce more or less stalk to the kitchenette. “You know, there  _ are _ better ways to tell me that you don’t want me to touch you,” Tony said after getting J to pause the movie.

Bruce turned, fixing a glare at the screen, frozen on a weird shot between cuts. “That’s not what I’m talking about. Look, I humored you through the first one. Maybe, I thought, I could get through the second. But I can’t sit through this ‘I like you because you’re not like sand’ speech three times in my life.”

It took a few seconds for that to process. He’d heard this three times in his life? “Wait, you’ve  _ seen  _ this before?  _ Twice _ ?”

Bruce fixed him with an odd look, brows drawn together. “Of course I have. Why wouldn’t I have seen this?”

“Southeast Asia?” Dear god, if Tony had just sat through that for nothing... 

That vaguely perplexed look didn’t fade, and if anything the creases in his forehead deepened. “Do you just not know when I disappeared or something?”

“Five years ago,” Tony answered promptly. He’d had to have JARVIS dig that up for him, but at least he couldn’t claim he was completely ignorant as to that.

“Do you just not know when this came out, then?”

That… Ok, yeah, Tony didn’t check that. “Five years ago?”

Silence stretched between them for a few seconds before Bruce ended up huffing out a laugh. “Tones, these movies came out before the other guy even happened. Long before that, actually. I don’t think he was even an idea at this point.”

Tony felt himself blanch in mortification, barely acknowledging the fact that ‘Tones’ was apparently a thing now. “Seriously? Five hours of my life, and I don’t even get the satisfaction of being the first one to show you this?”

Bruce looked more or less at a loss, frustration cleared away leaving only confusion. “Was that why we were doing this?”

“Bruce. You and I both know that the prequels are terrible. Why on earth would I watch them with you if I thought you’d already seen them.” Tony pinned him with an accusatory look, arms crossed as if he was actually frustrated with it.

Which, he kind of was, but more at himself than with Bruce. Really, why hadn’t he checked that? He’d checked other things beforehand… Hell, he’d closed the lab at that time because that was usually when Bruce left to go make more tea or get food for the both of them.

At least Bruce seemed to be more or less amused by the turn of events. “I was worried you actually  _ liked  _ them. And if you did, I wasn’t going to be the person to tell you that I thought they were awful when you seemed excited to show me them.”

Tony wasn’t sure what to say to that. Thankfully, Bruce didn’t let him try to figure out if he should accuse him of being sweet or not, since he just had JARVIS unlock the lab again so he could get back to work.

Which meant Tony got to debate by himself what he should do with that information. And if he should try and find something else to show Bruce by themselves, or if he should just count that experiment of sorts as a general failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, my precious babes who don't really communicate well!  
> It's up a bit later than I wanted it to be, but the notes and rough draft were scattered across a couple different notebooks and took a little longer to find than I thought.  
> As always, this is unbeta'd, mistakes are my own, I greatly appreciate everyone for reading this, and kudos and concrit are the lifeblood keeping this alive


	9. Chapter 9

Tony noticed that Bruce himself doesn’t drink coffee. And half the time when he went to get some for Tony, Bruce didn’t even bother to make tea for himself. Whether or not it’s an excuse for Bruce to get out of the lab and away from him, Tony wasn’t sure and he’s less sure if he should ask. But the end result, no matter what Bruce’s intentions were, was nice. The longer it went on, the stronger the butterflies that were lodged in his throat became, in spite of the fact that it hadn’t even been half a year since Bruce even got here.

“I think I’m going to work in lab 3 for the next week,” Bruce said after supplying Tony with fresh coffee.

And just like that, the nice feeling was ruined. There was a split second where Tony was sure he was about to drop the coffee mug before he collected himself. (He really needed to talk to Bruce about the ‘handing him things’ thing, honestly.)

“Mind if I join you? I can work anywhere, but if you want some peace…” He hoped it wasn’t searching for peace or space. That he could come with, because there’s still something nice about having someone else in the room with him.

As much as Tony liked locking himself away from the rest of the world… Bruce got him in a way few people did. And Tony _wanted_ that kind of camaraderie as often as he could have it.

Bruce hummed, pulling Tony’s current schematic towards himself so he could fiddle with a few numbers before passing it back. “It’s just a delicate project. I need to keep all my focus on it.” He offers Tony a wry smile and a small shrug. “It should only take a week. And I’ll still be around the Tower, you know. I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s hard to keep his expression neutral, taking a few moments to look at what Bruce had ‘fixed’… Well. It wasn’t _wrong_ but it wasn’t quite right either. More right than what Tony had, he begrudgingly admitted. “Who else is going to second guess my work next week?”

Something about the curve of Bruce’s lips shifted to be a little bit warmer, in a way Tony couldn’t quite pinpoint, and something inside Tony loosened at the sight of it.

“You managed just fine before I showed up. You’ll survive.”

What Tony didn’t want to say is that, while he would definitely survive, it wouldn’t be as nice.

* * *

Pepper had more or less made herself scarce for a few weeks. She would come by only when she had paperwork for Tony to go over, and while he was relieved for the space… He missed her.

Bruce had more than taken over her old ‘job’ of worrying after Tony, continuing to make sure he did eventually make it to bed at night, and considering that Bruce was usually leaving along with him it made Tony more prone to listen to him.

“You should stay for a while, this time,” Tony said, aiming for an offhand tone as he picked up the small stack of files Pepper had placed on his workbench. Bruce had only barely moved himself to a different floor during the days, and Tony could play it off as him just not having his usual amount of company.

She hummed softly, placing a hand on his shoulder for a brief moment. “I don’t think I can, today. Maybe another time?”

Tony tried not to be disappointed. He’d given her a company to run, after all. She had a life outside of him, just like he had a life outside of her. For all he knew, she was seeing someone else now as well, though he liked to think she would have told him that much. Just like he planned on telling her if he ever got involved with someone else.

“We do movies on Tuesdays, if you want. Clint usually picks, but I’d definitely let you choose the movie if you can make it. Or, you know. Whatever day you want to come. The team kind of comes and goes, though.”

At least that got a warm smile out of her as she walked towards the door. “They’re all good for you, you know. I think that living with people has always been good for you, as much as you like your own space.”

* * *

It ends up not being a Tuesday when Pepper finds time to just be social with Tony. It’s a Thursday, Clint had left on a mission in the middle of movie night, Bruce was still working on a lab floor different than Tony, and he wasn’t entirely sure where Natasha was.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about? It’s not like you to ask me to stay, even while we…” Pepper trailed off, seeming content to leave it at that.

Tony shrugged, offering her some dried blueberries as he settled on the couch with her in a similar way to how he and Bruce would sit. Except Pepper didn’t try to move him away when he stretched out across her. “I just feel like we’ve been in a weird place, you know? I mean, ever since the poisoning thing, we haven’t been on quite the same page.”

“So you want to address it like adults?” At least part of the shock in her voice was feigned, if not most of it.

Tony stuck out his tongue in retaliation. “Clearly ignoring things hasn’t been working for me. And if it’s not working, then it’s time to try it a different way.”

“Always the innovator.” The small grin on her lips belied the deadpan tone, and that alone was enough to put him more at ease, even if that look quickly faded to something more serious. “You know why things changed, don’t you? You kept closing yourself off, and maybe that would have worked before we decided to act on us, but… You can’t take on the whole world alone. And even if you can, you shouldn’t.”

Tony sighed, sinking further into the cushions. He was going to regret having this talk the entire time it went on. “I get it. The timing wasn’t good, and we didn’t quite fit like that.”

“And you always insisted on going it alone,” Pepper added gently. Her neatly manicured fingers went to his scalp and Tony shifted to curl against her side as a response. “We could have made it work if you had talked to me. If you had said you were dying, or if you didn’t lock yourself in your lab when anything went slightly wrong.”

Tony grimaced, hating to acknowledge that. He tried his best. He thought he had been doing the right thing, at the time. “I didn’t want you to carry that too. And, I mean, I prepared for the worst. You would have the company, inheritance, the works.”

“Tony,” she reprimanded, gently nudging him.

“I know, I know. I just… I tried. And I know that it’s my fault, but I did my best.”

Pepper hummed noncommittally, but didn’t say anything else. Part of Tony was grateful for that. There was something to be said for silence, loathe as he was to admit it. As much as he hated it and tried to fill every instance of quiet with some kind of noise.

It made him antsy. Maybe it always had, maybe it was a new thing. Tony had never tried to dwell on it, and avoided it as much as he could. Sometimes being around people helped it. More people usually equaled more noise, but sometimes… Sometimes he just needed _sound_ regardless of the number of people around.

Tony lost track of time, but clearly they had been curled up with each other for a while, since Bruce made it down from the labs, only pausing for a moment when he saw the two of them. Almost instantly, Tony straightened up, putting space between himself and Pepper as if he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

Which was ridiculous. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. Hell, society probably would say he was doing the right thing, reconciling with his soulmate even though he didn’t plan on getting back with her in that sense. They didn’t fit right. Not like they should.

“Sorry, I’m just passing through,” Bruce said. “No need to stop on my behalf.”

Pepper stood up, smoothing out the front of her dress. “I was just about to leave, actually. Keep him company for me, will you? He’s being touchy today, and you’re probably his favorite housemate, and an argument could be made for being his favorite person.”

Hesitation clearly crossed Bruce’s face, and Tony almost wanted to jump in and reassure Bruce that he absolutely did _not_ need to keep him company in lieu of Pep’s departure.

Pepper showed no such qualms, going so far as to touch Bruce’s shoulder as she passed him by to the elevator. Tony wasn’t sure who looked more shocked at the development, himself or Bruce, and maybe that was Pepper’s plan.

Judging by the small smirk she aimed at him right before the elevator doors closed, it was definitely her plan.

Bruce stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, and Tony wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with the turn of events or not.

On his, end, Tony was pretty sure that Pep had decided to trust his judgment on Bruce, or else she was prepared to stand by him regardless of if she trusted him or not.

“You don’t have to stay or anything. She just worries.”

“And you’re apparently needy today.” There was a small quirk to his lips and that was enough to put Tony back at ease.

“If I say yes, are you going to come over and cuddle me?” he asked, ready to claim he was joking at a moment’s notice.

He doubted Bruce actually would. They’d barely gotten back to the stage where Tony could drape himself over Bruce during movies, and even that was iffy and dependent on who else was in the room.

So when Bruce actually made his way over to the couch, sitting in the exact space Pepper had occupied not even a minute ago, Tony was shocked. “I’ll keep you company, at least. I doubt I’m as good at cuddling as she is.”

Well. If he was going to get even mildly lucky, Tony figured he should just go for broke. He’d gotten this much already. “Just play with my hair and you’re all good. I’m not picky about my cuddles.”

Bruce scoffed, and Tony was willing to accept that he was getting proximity and nothing else. “You’re not picky about contact in general,” he countered, blunt fingertips scraping against the nape of Tony’s neck.

Tony didn’t have the heart to correct him. The only people he liked touching him were either complete strangers or people he trusted absolutely. Instead, he just relaxed into it, head bowing under Bruce’s firm hand.

“So. Favorite person, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably don't express this enough, but I love Pepper. She deserves so much.  
> As always, this is unbeta'd, mistakes are mine and I'd greatly appreciate them pointed out to me. Thank you so much to everyone who's read, left kudos and/or commented. You all are the lifeblood of this fic


	10. Chapter 10

Tony was pretty sure that he was in some sort of weird limbo with Bruce at this point. The whole thing with Pepper asking the guy to more or less keep him company had definitely loosened him up a little bit, but at the same time they weren’t in each other’s space as much as they had been last week.

Idle thoughts like this kept getting into his head as he worked past the 35 hour mark. 35 hours, and Tony was still stuck only three steps ahead of where he had started yesterday.

“Why do I feel like you didn’t go to sleep at all last night?” Bruce asked.

The smell of coffee instantly perked Tony up, and he had no qualms with making grabby-hands at the man. “Oh good, I can try and decipher my notes now,” he said instead of answering. He figured that Bruce probably already knew anyways. “Weren’t you supposed to be in 3 until tomorrow? I thought you had that delicate project still in the works.”

He could hear the disappointed sigh, but paid it no mind. He was so close to figuring this out; he could feel it. And if he could get the efficiency up like he wanted, he could work on something more important, like routing more energy into the thrusters, or…

“Do you just not take care of yourself when left to your own devices?”

Tony blinked owlishly at him, cradling his cup close to his face as if he could regain energy just through the scent. “I take care of myself. I just take care of my work first. Are you trying to tell me that you don’t do the same thing when inspiration strikes?”

“No, but I’d be more fine with it if you planned on making up for the lost sleep in the near future,” Bruce countered, easing the coffee back out of Tony’s hands. “But I’m pretty sure you’re going to keep working until someone makes you stop.”

“You have no proof of that,” Tony retorted, making a halfhearted effort to get the coffee back. He’d gone much longer without sleep. This was fine.

The cup was set down on Tony’s worktable, and Bruce promptly wrapped his hands around Tony’s wrists before he could even think of picking it up for himself. “The only times I see you not working are when you’re sleeping, eating, or watching movies with the team. You didn’t even take a break after Manhattan; you just… Jumped right into rebuilding. And even after that was done, you started working the suit.”

This was definitely not a conversation he wanted to have under-caffeinated and lacking sleep. Especially when he  _ knew  _ he was close to a place where he could take a break without forgetting where he was. “Can we just chalk it up to ‘everyone copes differently’ and let me go?”

That wry smile returned, even if it was short lived. Bruce’s hands slid off of his own and he left the coffee where it was. “Just try and leave early today, all right? And savor that coffee because I’m not bringing you anymore.”

“It’s like you don’t even like me,” Tony groused, though he’d happily take it in lieu of being dragged out of the lab like some people tried to do.

“If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be plying you with overly sweet coffee to begin with.”

Tony huffed, unable to properly argue with that, as much as he wanted to. Instead, he spun the holographic rendering of his suit again, trying to figure out where exactly he was going wrong.

Not even an hour later, he was out of coffee, and had lost his train of thought for the umpteenth time. On a whim, and as a last-ditch effort, he slid the hologram over to where Bruce was patiently scrolling through what looked like a new data set of his own. “Ok, look at this and tell me where I’m going wrong.”

“You know I’m not even remotely an engineer, right?” Bruce asked, even as he started looking through what Tony passed him. “What makes you think I can figure it out?”

Tony more or less laid across his table, disregarding the clutter that had accumulated there. “You almost fixed it last week. I can get it the rest of the way if I know roughly where I’m going wrong.”

“Well, no promises…”

He didn’t look up to watch as Bruce worked, taking the time to actually close his eyes for a few minutes.

His head felt so heavy and unwieldy now that he actually let himself stop. Passing it off to Bruce, even temporarily, was probably a bad idea.

It felt like mere seconds had passed, but the ache in his back told him otherwise. “All right, Tones, you’re done,” Bruce said softly, and he was vaguely aware of the hand on his shoulder.

“I won’t remember it later,” he insisted,  straightening up and hearing something in his spine crack loudly into place. “I’m good. What did you find?”

Bruce’s lips were pressed into a thin, disapproving line as he took a step back. “The best I can figure, you put a decimal in the wrong place and messed everything up. My physics knowledge only gets me so far with your suit, and I’m only half-sure of what you’re trying to do in the first place.”

Tony groaned under his breath, brows pinching together as he pulled the data back to him. “It has to be more than that; it can’t be that simple…” His eyes hurt the slightest bit as he stared at the display, trying to find what Bruce had altered, if he had altered anything. “Did you find the misplaced decimal, at least?”

“I didn’t touch anything in case I was wrong. Seriously, take a break. You look dead on your feet.”

Almost hesitantly, Bruce put his hand back on Tony’s shoulder, and absently Tony noticed that the man hadn’t been this tactile with him… Ever, actually. And while he was mulling that over, Bruce had led him to the worn out couch, gently pushing down until Tony sank against the cushions.

God though, it felt good. Tony struggled to keep his eyes open and on Bruce. “I’m not a kid you have to put down for a nap, you know. I can take care of myself.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, turning back to his work station. “I know. But it looks like the occasional reminder wouldn’t go amiss.”

Tony huffed, but decided to let him win this time. He could close his eyes for fifteen minutes or so. And when he lost his place, he could blame Bruce for insisting he stop in at a bad time.

When Tony  _ did  _ open his eyes again, though, it didn’t feel like fifteen minutes had passed. It felt like five seconds and five hours at the exact same time, and he felt awful for it. “God, what time is it?” he grumbled, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.

“If I say it's been a hundred years, are you going to throw something at me?” Bruce asked in return. And damn it if Tony couldn't  _ hear _ the smirk in his voice.

“I literally don’t want to open my eyes long enough to look for something to throw at you, but the sentiment would definitely be there.”

Maybe there was something sympathetic in the way Bruce hummed at that. Or maybe that was wishful thinking; Tony wasn’t sure.

“It’s only been about an hour. And everything’s more or less how you left it. Still think you should stay and finish your work, or is it time for you to go to bed?”

That was a good question. Tony was pretty sure that he’d already lost where he was, work-wise, and he couldn’t even stand the thought of getting off the couch to work. “You know I’m not a toddler, right? You can’t really send me to bed or anything.” He tried to stand up, stretching uncomfortably in an attempt to wake himself up a bit more.

“And yet, you took a nap in the middle of the day, so you’re either an old man or a small child,” Bruce teased.

Tony glared at him, and Bruce lifted his hands in apology, in spite of the fact that he still looked pretty pleased with himself.

“See, just for that I’m going to stay here and bother you the rest of the day.” Something shifted oddly as he stood and he was pretty sure that, in spite of the fact that he was definitely  _ not  _ old, he probably shouldn’t be napping on couches anymore. “You don’t get to gloat, by the way.”

Bruce opened up Tony’s schematics again, passing them to his work station with a sweet smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Of course, it wasn’t even twelve hours later that the subject comes up again; after Tony managed to sleep six hours in his own bed and was waiting on Clint to finish making waffles.

When Tony acquired a waffle iron, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“You’d think after sleeping a decent amount,  _ and  _ napping you wouldn’t look quite so exhausted,” Bruce commented, pouring hot water over his tea bag.

Tony was barely awake enough to rise to the jab, and rolled his eyes before he took a sip of his coffee. “This is why, in spite of your intellect and sarcasm, I can never call you a dream come true. You couldn’t even last a full day without mentioning it, could you?”

He hadn’t even thought it through before saying it, and the second Tony heard his own words, he froze. For a brief second, he could feel panic setting in. He’d managed to get away with a lot with Bruce recently, but that might have been just a little too far.

His eyes were wide as he looked up from the counter, but all the visible reaction he could find was a faint blush high on Bruce’s cheeks.

“Tones, you wouldn’t call me a dream come true if I didn’t give you a hard time. Let’s be honest here,” he returned, seemingly unable to look at Tony as he fussed with his mug and helped Clint get plates down.

Confusion replaced panic as his brows drew together. Maybe Bruce would be less strict around others than he’d been figuring, and it was fine for him to push a little further than he’d initially thought.

Except Bruce quickly fell into bantering with Clint and only spared Tony an amused grin for the rest of breakfast, leaving Tony less than sure of exactly what the hell the two of them were even doing with each other. Because he was pretty sure that, as close as they were starting to get, there was some sort of bridge they needed to cross somewhere. The question was if that’s what they both wanted to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, we're almost getting some decent progression with the two of them! I swear, getting them together is going to be the death of me, but I promise it's going to be worth it.  
> Thanks again to everyone for reading, and kudos, comments and concrit are super appreciated. This is unbeta'd, and all mistakes are my own


	11. Chapter 11

“You don’t cover up the reactor as much as you used to,” Bruce noted. “Is it a heat thing?”

Tony looked up, soldering gun precariously held aloft. He’d finally figured out exactly what was throwing his calculations off, which meant it was time to do the physical work. “You mean am I running around in this because it’s still August and it’s burning up outside? Because there _is_ A/C in here,” he said, brows raised.

The point that Tony wasn’t making was that it wasn’t the first time he’d been around Bruce in a shirt tight enough for the raised edges of the reactor to be obvious beneath it. And Bruce had never said anything about it before. Though, the mere mention of the tech made him wonder if he should have put on something else, especially because he figured this was going to end up being a lecture on lab safety or Bruce awkwardly asking questions about the reactor that was buried in his chest.

Bruce’s gaze dropped, only for him to refocus on his own work instead of looking at Tony.

“It was more of an observation than anything,” he said with a small shrug. “And I was wondering if you would be covering back up in a few months when it got cold again. Though since you so helpfully pointed out that you have temperature control, I’m assuming that’s a ‘no’.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed a bit as he put down his work, trying to figure out exactly what it was Bruce was trying to say. Sure, he felt less weird about it blazing brightly through just about everything that he wore, but after that was mentioned, he felt the distinct urge to try and cover it up again the best he could.

Bruce seemed to be at least slightly oblivious to Tony’s musings, and didn’t even spare him a glance for several long, quiet seconds. “That wasn’t a complaint, you know. I just… It’s interesting to me. But you never bring it up or work on it when I’m around, so I thought it might be off limits.”

He paused a moment before refocusing on his own work so that he didn’t have to see Bruce’s eyes flick between his face and the bright blue light in his chest. Had he always done that, or was that new? God, he hoped it was new. Tony liked to think he was aware of when people were ogling the damn thing. “Yeah, well. Touchy subject and all. Kind of like how you don’t talk about the Other Guy.”

Bruce hummed, but seemed to get the point. His eyes stayed on his own work and didn’t say anything when Tony put a second, then third layer on. Well. He mentioned that Tony would probably get burned less, and it _still_ managed to rub him the wrong way.

For all of Tony’s claims to be over it, even he had to admit to himself that he was far less all right with what many in the world called a miracle of tech than he thought he was.

At least the warmth from it didn’t scare him anymore. He’d take the small favors.

The subject remained dropped for a grand total of two days, and he really thought Bruce of all people would know when to let something go.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel weird about it,” Bruce said softly, fingertips brushing across Tony’s back as he walked by.

Tony almost tensed up, but forced himself to stay as lax as he could while hunched over a gauntlet. “We all have our things,” he replied airily, taking a moment to wave away Bruce’s concern.

“I know. I’m just usually better at not touching people’s… things.”

He couldn’t help but scoff, the multiple ways that sentence could be twisted springing to mind. “Relax, Brucie. You didn’t touch it too hard; it’s just sensitive.”

Tony looked up in time to see that faint touch of red in Bruce’s cheeks again, but he didn’t comment further. Which was good, honestly. There were only so many teasing deflections he had on hand.

* * *

The matter of the reactor remained dropped, and the lab felt at least a little less stilted. Tony had gone back to wearing only two layers, and he was contemplating taking off another right then, since he was alone in the lab and it really was too warm to be working with metal this time of year, A/C or no.

And as far as he knew, no one else in the Tower was saying anything about it, though he supposed no one else really saw him in his work mode like Bruce did, so they would be used to him wearing multiple shirts at once.

He’d kind of hoped that the awkward encounters would end there, but he supposed he’d forgotten the fact that Natasha liked to stick her nose in things that weren’t really her business.

“You don’t drink as much as you used to.”

Tony didn’t even jump, having more or less gotten used to the fact that Natasha would just turn up when she pleased and didn’t make any noise when she entered a room. In spite of the fact that he specifically asked JARVIS to warn him if she came in.

“You know, when you were doing my eligibility test, I was kind of in the middle of dying,” Tony said conversationally. As if the topic wasn’t still a sore one, and really was it just the week of everyone pestering him about things?

She hoisted herself up onto his work table, legs crossed in front of her. “Even before that, there’s a clear history of you using alcohol to cope. I was pretty sure that you were going to take up drinking to forget, but I don’t think I’ve seen you past tipsy since Manhattan. Pepper and Clint said the same thing.”

Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why was he surprised over this? There was a reason he was less than keen on having spies living in his house. “Ok, can we just _not_ have this talk? I’m not drinking as much, yay, good job me, now can we just…” He motioned vaguely, glad that Bruce wasn’t in the lab at the moment. Tony got the sense that Natasha would be able to wrangle Bruce to argue her side of things, and he really didn’t like thinking about drinking.

Not when he had been so good about easing back.

Her eyes narrowed a bit, scrutinizing him in a way that made him feel small, despite the fact that they were at eye level. “It’s him, isn’t it? You don’t want to be drinking around Banner.”

“I…” Tony blinked a bit, trying to figure out where that conclusion had come from. Trying to figure out how that would even make sense to begin with. Did Bruce have a bad history with alcohol that was supposed to be common knowledge? “What?”

Natasha pursed her lips, sliding off the metal table without making a sound. There was a moment of hesitation, her gaze flickering over to the elevator before she sidestepped him. “Well, whatever it is, I’m glad. It’s… nice, having us all here.”

Tony thought he saw a flash of vulnerability dart across her face, but it was gone before he could tell for sure. She brushed by him just as the doors opened, signifying Bruce’s return.

In his periphery, he could see Natasha leaving and he was pretty sure that she gave Bruce a large berth of space, considering she stepped right into the elevator he just left. Belatedly, Tony noticed that her Widow Bites were on the table right next to where she’d been seated for mere seconds.

Tony wasn’t entirely sure what to do with their conversation, but at least Bruce was back which meant he probably had coffee.

“What was she down here for?” Bruce asked, glancing warily back as he handed Tony the mug.

Tony grit his teeth a bit, not sure if that was the little thing that was finally going to push him over whatever edge he’d been balancing on since Manhattan. The one he’d been conveniently ignoring ever since. “It’s apparently the week of asking me uncomfortable things. Is there a reason you keep handing me things, because it’s getting annoying.” He set the coffee down a little harder than necessary, wincing a bit at the sound of ceramic on metal.

Bruce’s brow furrowed, and he slowly eased back, dark eyes the slightest bit guarded. “Do you want me to _not_ hand you things?”

“How do you not know this? You literally made a point not to do so on the helicarrier.”

There was a pause, uncertainty clear on Bruce’s face even though he quickly ducked his head and started cleaning his glasses. “Honestly, I was doing that because I thought you were kind of a prick. I didn’t know that’s how you _preferred_ things.”

For a second, everything seemed to stop. And Tony started mentally running through all the instances of Bruce physically passing things to him. The wry smiles that started to accompany it, the way Bruce _always_ made a point to do so whenever he could, especially the more physical they got…

Jesus. So Bruce wasn’t trying to be a dick by it. He was trying to be a dick initially. Tony rubbed his temple, wondering why he didn’t address this sooner. “Ok. So. Future reference: I don’t like being handed things as a general rule. So if we could maybe go back to the whole ‘put my things down near me’ thing that we had going early on in our relationship, I’d appreciate it. I mean, touching is still good. Just...”

While Bruce’s brow furrowed, he did nod without argument, so at least there was that. In the back of his mind, Tony wondered if this was going to backfire in some kind of unexpected way.

Though, Bruce still got him coffee throughout the day, and the cups were placed carefully next to him now. Tony might have imagined the stilted awkwardness of the gesture, but at least it was a small stress off his shoulders. Even though there was a weird nagging feeling in his chest every time it happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter, guys (: Surprisingly enough, I'm actually ahead on writing for once, which means I should have more time to edit future chapters.  
> Thank you all so much for sticking with me, the kudos, subscribes, bookmarks, etc. are so so appreciated <3


	12. Chapter 12

The new suit was going pretty well, in Tony’s opinion. Actually, life in general felt like it was pretty close to being on-track for the first time in years.

Everyone was getting along. Steve still didn’t live with them, but came in for movies more often than not. Thor hadn’t even come back to Earth yet, so the assumption was that everything was all right with him. Bruce was settling in, and the team was acting a lot less skittish around him. 

Of course, that meant Tony was left wondering when the next shoe would drop. It was too good. There had to be something. So when Bruce asked him to close out his current set of blueprints, Tony’s guard was up. He hadn’t even done anything past getting his work set up and he was already being asked to stop?

To make matters worse, Bruce was fidgeting; alternating between wringing his hands and adjusting his glasses.

“Seriously, you’re stressing me out. What’s on your mind?” Tony asked, leaving the holograms up but giving Bruce his full attention.

Bruce took a deep breath, hands steadying instantly. “You know that the Other Guy is more of a liability than an asset. And since I’m not really the one with any of the technical know-how…”

Tony’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out Bruce’s train of thought was going. Sure, he was the engineer. The one who excelled at practical application. But he wasn’t quite sure where that linked into the Hulk. “Are you wanting me to build a cage or something, because SHIELD already did that and I’m not too keen to do the same since you don’t  _ need  _ to be caged.” Though, he was pretty sure that’s not what Bruce was thinking, considering he didn’t react too well to finding out that SHIELD had built one and all.

Well. Actually, Tony had been the one who went on the actual tirade after hearing about it, but that wasn’t the point. Bruce had looked about as displeased as Tony felt.

Bruce had resumed fidgeting, hands wringing the material of his lab coat almost absently and Tony went cold.

“I’m not building a cage to put you in.”

“It’s not so much a ‘cage’ as ‘containment in case something goes wrong’,” Bruce placated, hands raised in surrender. “It’s not something for all the time. Just… Just for when he gets out of control.”

Tony laughed, sounding beyond hollow even to his own ears. “Didn’t you go into hiding to avoid something like this? Seriously, he only went after the people attacking him, so I don’t think we’re going to have a problem.”

He’d been about to turn away when Bruce grasped his wrist. “Tony, please. It’s just a precaution. I know you’re very against the idea, but I don’t know anyone else who can do this for me.”

There was something almost sad in his eyes, and Tony was decidedly not strong enough to say no to that, as much as he wanted to. Tony sighed, openly grimacing at Bruce just so he could get across just how much he didn’t want to do this. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

The open relief across Bruce’s face almost made the sour taste in his mouth go away.

* * *

 

It took five hours for some semblance of a plan to come together. By the time Bruce had finished explaining the sort of thing he wanted, it felt a lot less like what Ross and SHIELD had tried to contain the Other Guy in, and vaguely more like another one of his suits instead.

Vaguely. Just enough to put Tony marginally more at ease.

But five hours later, they had more or less worked through their usual lunch, and Tony felt more drained than he usually did, although there was still that hum of energy that always came with a new project.

“You don’t have to start now. I know you’re in the middle of something.”

Tony waved off his concerns, already sketching out blueprints and gathering material lists. He wasn’t entirely sure what would even work to hold the guy, but that was part of why Bruce asked him to do this to begin with. “If I don’t start now, I never will. I can get back to the armor in a bit, I just…”

He just needed to think. How was this even going to work? If they needed it for missions, it was going to have to be something they could bring with them. And while he could fit an entire suit of his own armor in a suitcase, something big enough to contain nine feet of personified anger? That was going to take up a lot more space.

Bruce seemed to understand his absorption and let the conversation drop there. He touched Tony’s shoulder as he walked away, probably going to get coffee or something like that.

Tony let himself get lost in the basic design, knowing that he couldn’t even start to think about anything  _ beyond  _ the basics until he knew what he was up against.

Sure, he had practical experience with the Other Guy, but what Tony needed was the  _ numbers _ . Something he could quantify so he could get a better idea of the strength he’d need in the structure.

His armor sat forgotten on the table, and Tony wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Bruce even came back, but he got the sense that it was longer than he was usually gone. It was at least long enough for him to get a vague idea of framework displayed in the center of the lab.

“I was expecting you to be gone by now,” Bruce said mildly, startling Tony. “We’ve been waiting on the communal floor for you. Clint’s decided we’re starting Star Wars and he’s getting testy.”

Tony snorted. ‘Testy’. He was pretty sure if anyone was getting testy, it was going to be Steve. “I don’t have enough data to do this,” he said, gesturing to the bright blue plans.

There was a pause, and Bruce’s brow furrowed the slightest bit. “I know you don’t. That’s why I thought you would have left by now.” Still, Bruce approached Tony’s work, examining it.

Eventually, Bruce asked JARVIS to pull everything down, and Tony had to blink to adjust to how dim the room seemed. For a split second, Tony was reminded of when they first worked together on the helicarrier, and how empty everything felt once their work wasn’t cluttering up the air. It was a weird sort of intimacy that Tony wasn’t sure what to do about.

“Come on,” Bruce insisted. “I’m supposed to bring you downstairs.”

There was a hand on his elbow, and Tony maybe looked at it longer than he should have.

“You touch me a lot more,” Tony said, brow furrowing a bit. It wasn’t a new observation by a long shot, but… Bruce had to be aware of it, right?

His hand dropped like he’d been burned, and Bruce quickly put an extra foot of space between them. “Sorry, I… You’re always trying to hang off me, so I figured--”

“That was the furthest thing from a complaint,” Tony interrupted, matching Bruce step for step.

It was fine, right? The touching, the way that Bruce had just let Tony get progressively touchier, the fact that he brought him  _ coffee _ on a regular basis without prompting? It wasn’t any sort of conventional flirting, but he didn’t know what else it could even be at this point.

So Tony decided that he was going to be the slightest bit reckless. And as far as he was concerned, most of the recklessness came from the fact that he could potentially drive Bruce out of the building for good this time, but what the hell. A lot of what he’d done could have led to that.

Everything seemed to slow for a bit as Tony grasped Bruce’s hand as he leaned forward to press their lips together.

It felt like mere seconds before Bruce’s hands were on his shoulders and pushing him back. Tony hadn’t even gotten enough time to marvel at how soft Bruce’s lips were before it was over, and there was some kind of tragedy in that. Bruce’s eyes were wide, panicked, and Tony felt his stomach drop. Fuck.  _ Fuck _ .

“Bruce, I…”

“Don’t.”

His jaw clicked shut, leaving Tony staring at Bruce who seemed more distressed than Tony felt. God, he hadn’t expected it to go this bad. At worst, he figured Bruce would push him away and say he wasn’t interested, but this? The fact that Bruce looked almost afraid?

Neither of them moved, and Tony could feel his heart hammering against his ribs. Was he supposed to apologize? He’d already been cut off from trying to speak, but Bruce was starting to leave, and he couldn’t just let it be like that.

“Ok, hear me out,” Tony insisted, following Bruce, albeit with a lot less grace. “It’s not a big deal, we can just--”

“No, Tony, we can’t,” Bruce interrupted, whirling on him quickly. “Do you just not have any self-preservation instincts? Do you just not  _ understand _ how this works with me?”

That… was not even close to the answer he expected. His brows furrowed, hands raised in surrender as he slowly tried to approach Bruce. Which would have been more effective if Bruce didn’t match him step for step in retreat. “I don’t know what this has to do with me being reckless. Actually, I think shocking you with a cattle prod was lot more dangerous than me kissing you.”

Bruce huffed, rubbing his temple. “Gamma radiation, Tones. Other Guy or not, I… Being around me is dangerous.”

For a second, that almost made sense. Tony had been willing to accept that, considering radiation poisoning was a thing, except... 

“You touch me all the time. If you were going to get me sick, it would have already happened by now. I think.” Tony glared at him, defiant in spite of the fact that there was an underlying sense of fear. Not of Bruce, never of him. But Tony was well aware of the fact that he himself didn’t handle rejection particularly well.

Silence hung heavily between them, and the space between them left Tony feeling more than a little unmoored, especially in light of how close he’d been allowed to get recently.

“What do you think I was testing last week?” Bruce asked softly. “If continual contact with me would be safe. And to an extent it is, but further than that…?” He shook his head, leaning back against the wall he’d backed himself into. “I don’t know.”

“What, so because you haven’t tested it, it has to be awful? It has to be ‘dangerous’ because you don’t know yet?” Actually that kind of ticked him off. He got pushed away because it  _ might _ be less than safe?

Bruce’s eyes hardened as they focused in on Tony. “And just because we don’t know if it is dangerous doesn’t mean it’s safe either. Maybe you’re happy to run headlong into things, but I can’t do things that way.”

Tony’s jaw clenched, determinedly closing up the space between them. “Is that your only reason for pushing me back? Because something you haven’t tested might be less than safe, or is that just your excuse?”

There was a marked pause, and Tony just knew that he wasn’t going to like where this conversation went.

“You have Pepper already. I don’t know why you’d be after me as well.”

“When have I given any indication that I ‘have Pepper’?” he asked.

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The way you two constantly go to another room to talk. The way she touches you, and the way  _ you _ touch her. Not to mention the fact that you two have the exact same triangle of scars on the side of your left thumb. And maybe you two have an open thing, but I can’t do that. I was never…”

All right, when Bruce put it like that, it looked kind of bad. Still, Tony had committed to this argument, and like hell was he going to make concessions. “She dumped me months ago. Couldn’t handle how reckless I was, and you  _ know  _ I’m overly tactile so by that logic I have you more than I have her.”

“Tony… I can’t do this.”

The only reason he stopped was because of that guarded sadness that turned up in Bruce’s eyes again. Tony could argue and fight this, but apparently he was powerless to that look. So he sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Fine. All right? Won’t happen again; no hard feelings. I’m just gonna…” He jerked his thumb towards the elevator. Somehow the idea of watching anything with the team was a lot less appealing now than usual. “I’ll catch the next movie. No one’s allowed to tell Steve that Luke and Leia are siblings except me.”

There was half a second where it looked like Bruce was going to touch his shoulder, but his hand dropped before he could even get close.

Tony had almost forgot how much that sort of thing hurt. But he wasn’t going to do a repeat of the last time they ‘fought’, so Tony just made his way up to his room and hoped that by tomorrow he could act like everything was fine. He wasn’t going to fall apart twice over the same man, especially not in such a short time span.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head, this chapter was going to go a lot differently than it ended up;;;  
> Thanks to everyone who's read, left kudos, bookmarks and subscribed. Concrit is definitely appreciated


	13. Chapter 13

Tony didn’t allow himself for wallow for too long. Regardless of the sting of rejection, he still had work to get done, and if there was one thing Tony was good at it was putting all his personal issues aside for the sake of progress. Bruce kept his distance in the lab, and it seemed like the casual touching had all but stopped.

Again.

But he forced himself not to think about it, and focused on his armor first, since Bruce still hadn’t provided the numbers he needed to build the trap. Tony wasn’t actually sure that the numbers he needed were recorded anywhere, but he’d worry about that when he got back to it. Well,  _ if _ he got back to it. The fact that Bruce had started to make himself scarce almost made Tony want to drop the project all together, if he was being honest.

The little favors stopped as well. Which meant Tony was back in charge of getting his own coffee on a regular basis. Unfortunately, Tony found himself on the communal floor more often to make it himself, which meant that he saw other members of the team a lot more frequently. He was starting to think that most of Natasha's 'cryptic words of wisdom' was actually just a lot of bullshit, but that was neither here nor there.

Though, he had the displeasure of being in the lab when Thor turned up and caused the power in the Tower to flicker.

The lights dimmed, music cutting out awkwardly for a brief second before everything came back on at full volume, including JARVIS.

Tony startled badly enough that the chestplate he was reforming unbalanced and crashed back against the table, which really just made the noise worse.

“JARVIS, volume,” Tony called. He pressed his fingertips to his temple, already feeling a headache come on. “What happened?”

“It seems that Thor has arrived on the roof. Shall I bring him down?”

Tony shot a glance over to Bruce, who seemed much less frazzled at the electrical outburst.

Something in the back of his mind helpfully pointed out that Bruce was probably used to constant shorts, considering this was probably the first time in years that he’d had equipment that  _ worked  _ on a regular basis.

Tony huffed, getting the chest plate propped upright again. Well. So much for getting it streamlined today. “Yeah. Take him down to the communal floor for me, J? Actually, who else is here? I thought Natasha was due back soon.”

“Miss Romanoff will be returning late tomorrow evening, due to complications.”

That wasn’t a good sign. Clint would probably be pacing around his floor, in that case. “All right. Well, let whoever’s here know that Thor just got in.” Tony straightened up, grimacing at the stiffness in his shoulders. “You coming, Banner? Ring in the God of Thunder on a… J, what day is it?”

“It’s a Thursday, sir.”

Bruce scoffed, a smile tugging at his lips. “Do you think he’ll get the irony?” Still, he shook his head. “I’m going to finish this up. Give him my regards; I’ll probably lay low while he’s here.”

Tony tutted. “Is there some bad blood I don’t know about? He doesn’t seem like the type to hold grudges, you know.”

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck, and Tony was pretty sure that was a vaguely smug grin on his lips. “I kind of punched him in the face. Well. The Other Guy did.”

Tony was pretty sure he was both impressed and intimidated at the exact same time. Because Thor? He was a force to be reckoned with, extra-terrestrial or not. “Well. Still pretty sure he still doesn’t hold grudges but if you want to hide out here, I won’t stop you. Just don’t hide out here the entire visit, ok?”

Bruce hummed noncommittally, and Tony just decided to leave it at that and went up to meet the guy. Tony was secretly grateful for the space, and the fact that he already had Thor’s room done and set up.

When he got to the common room, Thor was already there and that cape of his was swirling around as he wandered about the space, absently touching things. Clint was nowhere to be seen, and Tony was taking that as either he wasn’t home, or he was doing something.

Not that Tony was entirely sure what Clint even  _ did _ while he was around.

When Thor saw him, his eyes lit up and he crossed the floor with heavy footfalls. “Stark!” he proclaimed before wrapping his arms tightly around Tony.

Air rushed from his lungs as it felt like his ribs were being crushed. “Ok big guy, fragile human here,” he practically wheezed.

He cursed under his breath when Thor released him, looking at least a little contrite. “I forget your strength does not match mine,” he said, smiling still.

Tony almost wondered if he should be offended before shrugging it off. “Let me show you around. You going to be here for a while?”

* * *

Introducing Thor to the Tower was kind of anticlimactic. A lot of the tech Thor didn’t get, and then he had the nerve to call some of it ‘quaint’, as if there was better where he was from.

Maybe there  _ was  _ better where he was from. It’s not like Tony knew what kind of things they had up in Asgard; for all he knew everything he made would be considered obsolete there.

They  _ did _ end up running into Clint, who was quick to take over the whole tour guide bit and Tony made a point to tell Thor which floor he could stay on before he left them to their own devices.

JARVIS got very specific instructions to keep a close eye on them for him.

“That was fast,” Bruce said mildly, not looking up from his work as Tony stepped back into the lab. “Did he not need to be led around much?”

Tony hesitated a bit, fingers trailing across the metal tabletop. He could very well have left for the night. Or he could have insisted that  _ he _ show Thor around instead of Clint. Eventually he shrugged, hoisting himself up onto his work table. “He’s got J and Barton to help him out. Besides, not like I can leave my work laying around, can I?”

Bruce shrugged, sparing Tony a quick look. “Is he staying long?”

Tony hummed, fiddling with an elbow joint. “He was kind of vague on that point. He mentioned that he had to go find someone, but he seemed pretty content to stand around and criticize my elevator, so he could be sticking around for a while.”

At least that earned him a snort of laughter from Bruce. “What, are talking elevators passe in Asgard or something? Or do they just have more intelligent AIs up there?”

“They use the stairs,” Tony deadpanned.

There was a weird satisfaction that came from Bruce stopping, staring blankly ahead of him before turning to Tony. “He’s going to criticize and he doesn’t even have anything  _ better _ to compare it to?”

“Exactly!” Tony threw his hands up, almost knocking over a few pieces of armor that he had to quickly scramble to keep upright.

Bruce just sighed, shaking his head. Though Tony was pretty sure he saw a hint of a smile there.

Tony contented himself with simply tinkering instead of getting any actual work done, even though it looked like Bruce had moved on to something more practical than theoretical.

“I might go back to lab 3,” Bruce mentioned offhandedly.

He looked up just in time to see Bruce neatly putting back a set of beakers. “Delicate personal project again?” Tony asked, aiming for the same brand of casualness that had been in Bruce’s voice. It didn’t quite sound like he succeeded, though.

“Like last time, yeah.”

Tony stopped, brow furrowing just a bit. Like last time. So, Bruce was running tests on himself again? He was a little more careful about his faux-nonchalance than usual. “Do I get to know what you’re working on this time, or is it a secret until it’s done?”

God forbid Bruce keep it a secret  _ after _ he was done. But then, it wasn’t like most of his work wasn’t a mystery to Tony. Whether or not that was intentional… 

There was a clear moment of hesitation that dragged on long enough for Tony to start fiddling with his work again. He was going to just assume that--

“Honestly, I should probably make sure we didn’t put you at risk for getting sick,” Bruce said softly, interrupting Tony’s train of thought.

“What, you didn’t do that the second after it happened?” Tony stopped himself, well aware that he shouldn’t be opening up this fight again. Even though he was so sure he could win if Bruce would stop being so damn stubborn.

Bruce didn’t answer, so Tony decided to shove his foot in his mouth and push his luck further.

“I’m guessing you weren’t too worried about the whole ‘possibly getting me sick’ thing, then. Which I’m taking to mean that you think the risk is minimal to nonexistent.” Tony was brazen, looking straight at Bruce.

Bruce’s mouth was set in a firm line, but he didn’t look away. “To be blunt, you’re at the highest risk anyways, since you spend the most time with me. I just want to be sure, all right? Stop trying to spin this like…”

“Like maybe you’re just trying to get away from me? Because that’s kind of how it feels.” Tony forced himself to look away, mentally cursing himself for breaking first. When he spoke up again, his voice was much softer, more like an apology than anything. “It just sucks, from my end. You won’t be with me for some undefined reason, and you chalk it up to ‘safety concerns’ even though you admitted that it’s only a minor worry, since so far your tests prove that you’re safe to be around. Which leaves me wondering if it’s because it’s  _ me _ , or if it’s something else you’re not telling me.”

Bruce sighed, and Tony could just picture the man pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s complicated. It doesn’t matter how much I may want to; the Other Guy doesn’t make that kind of thing easy.”

Tony perked up a bit, back straightening. “So you do want to?”

“Of all the things for you to focus on… That’s not the main issue, Tones. You need to stop being reckless and just think this through.”

“It  _ is _ the main issue.” Tony huffed. “Do you want to or not? Because if it’s me as a person, you should just say so now and save me the future embarrassment, because I’m not going to stop trying to get you otherwise.”

A pained look crossed Bruce’s face, and he was quick to start putting space between them, in spite of the fact that Tony hadn’t even moved off the table. “Can we please not have this talk right now?”

That increasingly familiar anger started bubbling up, and while maybe his original intention was to not escalate this, that was apparently going out the window. “If you need to wait for a test to come back to let me know if you’re interested, it’s never going to stop. Because there’s always going to be  _ something _ you’re unsure of. So point blank, yes or no?”

Bruce’s face was stony, almost impassive, and Tony was pretty damn sure that he’d managed to fuck it up in one fell swoop, even after promising himself not even a week ago that he was going to keep everything calm.

“We’re a bad idea, Tony. You need to stop pushing.”

Tony drew himself up to his full height, which would probably be more intimidating if he had more than an inch on Bruce but he’d work with what he had. “Maybe you need to stop running,” he countered. “But fine. Go run your test in your lab by yourself. See if I care.”

There was some sort of satisfaction of watching Bruce walk away first this time. Unfortunately, it was pretty fucking short lived, and Tony was pretty damn sure he hated himself within minutes of being alone in the lab.

“I highly doubt he will leave, Sir,” JARVIS said, sounding about as consoling as an AI could.

Tony offered a small smile to the ceiling. “Thanks, J. Keep me posted if he decides to make a run for it, but otherwise leave him alone, yeah?”

“I will try not to meddle.”

He was pretty sure that was code for ‘I’m interceding, but acting like it’s not interceding’. Tony didn’t care enough to force his AI to listen to orders.


	14. Chapter 14

There were a lot of things Tony didn’t like waking up to. Hangovers, overly clingy bed-partners, injuries… And usually, if JARVIS woke him up it wasn’t for pleasantries.

“Sir, Doctor Banner is in the middle of packing a bag.”

Tony groaned, pretty sure whatever minimal headache he’d been harboring since yesterday was still lingering just behind his eyeballs. “Say again, J?” he asked, trying to untangle himself from his blankets.

“I am quite sure that he’s about to leave the Tower,” he said, almost testily. As if he could _get_ testy. “Someone has prevented me from getting involved, so I thought to inform you instead.”

It was way too early for passive-aggressive programs, Tony decided once he finally got himself sorted out. “We both know you could have found a way to butt in if you really wanted to.”

“Why do you think I woke you up, Sir?” he sassed right back, quick as ever.

Tony rubbed his eyes, feeling the unpleasant grit from sleeping present. “Can you skip to the part where you tell me if I have time to put on something, or if I have to go down in this?”

There was a marked pause, and Tony took the time to at least pull on sweatpants. “I would recommend that you go now. He’s still on his floor but it appears that most all of his personal belongings have been gathered.”

Tony cursed, looking down at his bare chest. This was going to suck. It was the middle of the night, and he was about to go rush down to meet someone who was trying to get away without a damn shirt on. “Get me an elevator. And freeze any from going to his floor unless I’m in it.”

Only after he was halfway down to Bruce’s floor did he realize that he could have stopped all the elevators so he had enough time to cover himself up, but by that point it was entirely too late to turn around. He was hoping for some level of stealth, because he got the feeling that Bruce didn’t know quite how much of the Tower he could control at will. And honestly? Tony would like to keep it that way.

It had been a long time since he’d physically been on Bruce’s floor, and Tony vaguely noted that the accent rug had arrived at some point. And it really did help tie together the grey carpet to dark wood of the rest of the space.

He’d been about three seconds from starting towards Bruce’s room when the man himself stepped out, worn out duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“Well. This is awkward,” Tony stated, painfully aware of the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be here. And it was the middle of the night, and Tony had just shown up barefoot, on top of everything else.

Jesus, this was going to be a disaster; he could already tell.

Bruce shifted, eyes firmly staying off of Tony, which he was sort of grateful for. “JARVIS sold me out, I’m guessing?”

“Woke me up, too,” Tony confirmed. “So. Are we doing the rom-com thing where I throw myself at you and convince you to stay, or are you actually going to leave? Because I really don’t want to do the melodramatics at this hour, but I will if it means you’ll stick around.”

A small smile tugged on Bruce’s lips, but he hiked up the bag and started to ease himself around Tony without really putting them much closer. “Look, Tony. You’re sweet. Honestly, you are. But this...” He shook his head. “It’s too much. _You’re_ too much. And I can’t just…”

They were doing that dance again. The weird one they did after the bed-sharing thing stopped, and when Clint moved into the Tower. And Tony was getting really fucking tired of it. So he got up in Bruce’s face, and really tried to ignore how vulnerable he felt. “So tell me that. Don’t just bail the second things get a little off track.”

“A little off track was when you lied about having no spare beds for over a month. But this--”

“Ok, really is this any worse than that?” Tony interjected. “At least this time I wasn’t blatantly lying to you. And you said you knew about that thing anyways, so it’s not entirely my fault to begin with. You don’t talk to me about these things. I’m walking blind because your boundaries keep shifting and I don’t know where they are.”

Bruce stepped back, putting space between them again. “You can’t tout yourself like you’re a paradigm of good communication when you locked yourself in a lab for almost two days. Boundaries move, Tony. Or did you not notice that they kept moving back the longer you pushed at them?”

“And then they moved right back to stage one when I overstep the slightest bit!” Tony shot back. “Jesus, Bruce. Either you tell me what I can and can’t do, or I’m going to keep pushing too far and I don’t like that. I don’t like when you close up and I’m left wondering at what point I was supposed to stop.”

That seemed to bring Bruce up short. His shoulders were raised, posture stiff, but at least he wasn’t quick to jump back in and throw Tony’s multiple missteps in his face.

So Tony stepped forward, brushing his fingers across the back of Bruce’s hand and wrapping around his wrist. “Don’t leave, if nothing else. I’ll back off this time, I promise. Just… Stay.”

Bruce sighed, head bowing. He didn’t immediately try and pull away, so there was at least some glimmer of hope. “The problem is, I don’t want you to back off. I know I’m being contradictory, and I’m sorry for that. I don’t mean to jerk you around like I have been. It’s a hard adjustment for me to be even _allowed_ to touch someone that I forget sometimes that I have to be mindful of if I _should_.”

“I think the only problem that we’re having is the fact that you are jerking me around. A lot. And not even in a fun way.” Tony squeezed Bruce’s wrist before dropping his hand entirely, taking a step back so that Bruce could have space if he needed it. “Stick around. Don’t worry about touching me too much, because I like that. I like _you_ , in case I haven’t made that painfully obvious. And if you want to keep it platonic, that’s fine. I can live with that, but you have to tell me that’s how you want it to work so I don’t keep getting my hopes up.”

There was a moment of hesitation before Bruce stepped forward, and Tony was damn sure his heart was in his throat. “You know it’s not safe,” he insisted softly. His palm brushed across Tony’s bare shoulder.

Ok, maybe he was wrong. If this was how Bruce was going to be while insisting that it was platonic, Tony might very well die. “Maybe I like things that aren’t safe,” he countered, resolutely staying where he was. Even though Bruce was getting a little too close to touching the reactor itself.

“Gee, I hadn’t noticed.” Bruce shot him a wry smile before pulling back.

Tony could feel himself actually relax at that point, though he hoped that Bruce didn’t quite catch that and think that Tony was taking his words to heart or anything.

“But this is different. We’re not even… Tones, broken up or not, what you and Pepper have is special. You can’t just ignore that.”

Tony’s chin jutted out, knowing full and well that he _could_ just ignore it, even though that wasn’t what he was doing, exactly. “I want to be with you.”

Bruce was quick to level an exasperated look at him, and Tony struggled not to shy away from it.

His hands lifted defensively, knowing full well that if he couldn’t win this fight, he’d be out of chances. “I know, ok? I lied to you, a lot, and I’m kind of a disaster. And I’m reckless. _But_ .” Tony paused, trying to figure out where to go from here. The selling points. “But we’re good together. And we could be really good _together_.”

“Tony, we’re not meant to be together,” Bruce reminded gently.

As if he didn’t know that. As if he didn’t come back to the States to an inconsolable Pepper who hadn’t been sure if he was alive. Because she took off her shirt one night and found a giant, mangled scar right in the center of her chest that was more or less Tony’s fault. The same fucking scar that was showcased right now, plain as day on his skin.

“But we could work, Bruce. Regardless of any of that, we could _work_ . You’re acting like matching is the be all end all of relationships, and it’s _not_. You’re just going to dismiss the possibility because it isn’t conventional? Nothing I do is conventional; why should this be any different?”

Bruce’s hand found the skin between Tony’s collarbone and the reactor, gently pushing him back further.

The push-pull was making Tony more than a little antsy. The stark reminder of how exposed he was? Somehow it was worse. “It could work,” he repeated, softer this time. It felt louder, though. As if he was interrupting a moment.

“It could also be a disaster. It’s actually much more likely to be a disaster, just by proximity to me.” Bruce shook his head, hand tightening on his bag. “I should leave.”

Tony swallowed thickly, steeling himself for this. Because like hell was he about to let Bruce walk away. Not after he bolted down here without even putting on proper clothes. Not after he left himself this vulnerable in the middle of the fucking night to stop him.

He grasped the strap just above Bruce’s hand, firmly putting himself into Bruce’s space so he couldn’t easily sidestep. “We can run tests to prove it’s safe if that’s what it’s going to take. As many as you want; whatever kind you want. But don’t walk away because it wasn’t ‘meant to be’, or because you think you’re dangerous for some ridiculous reason. If that’s all you got, I’m not going to let you go.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed a bit, but he made no move to dislodge Tony’s grasp. “I swear to god, you are the only person in the entire universe who thinks the Other Guy isn’t a threat to you,” he grumbled, gaze dropping to the floor.

“Come on,” Tony said, a half-grin spreading across his lips. “You and I both know that I’m far more of a danger to myself than you are to me. That pesky lack of self-preservation that you like to lecture me about after something catches fire.”

“You’re rarely even working on anything that would _start_ a fire to begin with, Tones. And somehow that doesn’t even stop you from starting them.” A ghost of a smile tugged at Bruce’s lips as his grip on his bag started to relax.

“Exactly! So by sticking around you’re actually keeping me safe, if you think about it.”

Bruce sighed, the hint of a smile quickly getting replaced by a small frown. “You know I’m going to keep worrying about this. No number of tests is going to make me think I’m safe to be around, but…”

Tony stopped breathing, almost sure that this conversation was going to go his way, but not quite sure enough to let his hopes get too high yet. He didn’t dare follow Bruce’s example of letting his grip loosen.

Bruce slid his own hand up to cover Tony’s for a brief moment before essentially prying his grip open. “I’ll be here in the morning. We can talk about it then, all right? You can have JARVIS keep tabs on me if you want.”

There was a split second where Tony wanted to argue that. They could talk about it now, and have it all sorted out by morning, probably. Except… Well. He didn’t have the bravado to keep ignoring how underdressed he was. And if he had time to think, maybe he could make sure to have rebuttals to every excuse Bruce might try to make.

So he simply nodded, hesitating a bit longer before making a slightly shaky retreat towards the elevator. “Tomorrow. My floor around seven?”

“I’ll be there,” Bruce said softly.

Tony would admit to feeling a little unsteady by the time he got back to his floor. The way Tony figured though, he had about three hours to pull himself together enough to talk about it. Maybe a little more than talk, if it went well.

The good news was, it felt like the argument was over. The only tension that had been left in the room had probably been a result of Tony edging on being sleep deprived and half naked. Which meant that they could actually _talk_ and come to an agreement.

Which Tony was taking to mean that he could walk away from the conversation with something closer to a relationship with Bruce.

It only took an hour under hot water to scrub away that overly-exposed feeling and re-dress himself. And if he changed shirts four or five times, that was his own business, and J had been sworn to secrecy about it.

Time ticked slowly from then, and Tony spent the rest of the time getting himself multiple cups of coffee and mentally running through every defense he could think of just in case.

By the time seven finally _did_ roll around, Tony had taken to pacing and absently tapping his fingers against his leg as he did so. Bruce was blessedly punctual, but he couldn’t help but notice the wariness in his eyes as he set a mug of coffee on one of the tables.

“If I’d known you would be caffeinating yourself, I wouldn’t have gone through the effort, but I’m pretty sure it would be a waste to not give it to you,” he explained with a sheepish shrug.

“I’m so glad you don’t spend a lot of time fretting about my coffee consumption,” he said lightly. Tony automatically checked over what Bruce was wearing, settling in a bit when he saw that the worn out jeans and jacket had been replaced with an oversized sweater and pants Tony damn well knew he didn’t provide.

Comfortable clothes. Not something to run off in, he hoped.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, motioning to the chairs. “So. Talking? I’m not really sure where we’re starting with this, so.”

There was something a little stilted as Bruce settled himself down, eyes not leaving Tony. “You don’t like my reasons for not wanting to be with you. And I’m pretty sure you’re not going to let that go, so I guess… May as well figure out how to make it work, since you’re so intent on it.”

The wording got under his skin, and Tony grimaced a bit as he picked up the cup Bruce had brought him. “You make it sound like I’m coercing you into this. If you don’t want this because I’m a lot to handle and you’re not interested, that’s fine. No hard feelings; I’ll back off immediately.”

Bruce started picking at his nails, looking down at the floor. “So we should figure out how to make it work,” he repeated.

Tony’s heart thudded almost painfully  in his chest. Ok. Verbal confirmation was good. The fact that there had been a lot of hints dropped had been nice, but this? He made sure not to ask Bruce if he was positive about that, not wanting to give him an opportunity to back out.

More the point, he wasn’t a teenager in a rom-com who needed it repeated for dramatic effect.

“So a lot of your hang-ups are safety related, right? We don’t have to keep discussing Pepper?”

“We don’t have to keep talking about Pepper,” Bruce confirmed, nodding once. He glanced up at Tony, a wry smile on his lips and a touch of red in his cheeks.

And Tony was going to mentally note that it was a good look on him before refocusing on what was important right now. “Ok. Good. So, safety issues? You said touching is fine, and anything else is inconclusive. I’m just going to keep ignoring the Other Guy, since I haven’t seen anything even close to a change since you got here. Plus, he seemed to like me when we did meet, so.”

“Only you, Tony…” Bruce shook his head, rolling his eyes. “He’s not as quiet as it looks. But right now, the radiation is my primary concern. I _can_ test it out, but certain, um…” The blush burned brighter as his shoulders hunched a bit. “It might take a while before I’m comfortable with as much affection as I think you like. For health reasons.”

Tony blinked a bit, the pieces falling together oddly. “Ok, either you just initiated the sex talk, or you’re still fretting over us making out and I’m not sure which I would be more shocked by. Actually, yes I do, never mind.”

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It was more of a ‘we’d be going slow’ talk. And a ‘I can’t offer much more than what I’ve already offered you for a while until I figure out just how to begin some of this testing’ talk.”

“To be honest, I’m not even sure how you tested that you’re safe to touch. Did you just hold a Geiger counter to yourself and hope for the best? Or was it something more intensive?”

“Tones, we’re not talking about this now.”

He couldn’t help but grimace, but motioned for Bruce to go on. “All right, so nothing more than cuddling for now. I can do that. What else?”

“Your pacing is stressing me out for starters,” Bruce said mildly.

Tony paused mid-step, having barely noticed that he’d even started back up again. He took a slow breath before deliberately walking over to the closest chair and sitting down. “Ok. Other stipulations?” he asked, thumb tracing around the lip of his cup in lieu of pacing. Too much nervous energy, his mind helpfully supplied.

Bruce shrugged lightly. “Aside from ‘take it easy on me’, not really. If you’re willing to match my pace and actually let me worry about your health and safety, and if you’re actually sure that you would rather me…”

“That’s pretty much a blanket ‘yes’ for me,” Tony confirmed. “So, that means you’ll do this? And not run off on me, because that was actually kind of shitty of you?”

“Force of habit. I can’t…” Bruce trailed off for a moment, brows furrowing. “It won’t happen again. And I’m willing to give us a shot.”

He offered a wry smile, and Tony wasn’t actually sure where to take things from here. This wasn’t a cheesy porn shoot, so he couldn’t throw himself into Bruce’s arms and kiss him. But that didn’t really leave much, so Tony just settled for taking a sip of his coffee to buy himself some time.

Silence stretched out a bit before Tony couldn’t take it anymore. “Ok, so this is good and all, but now it’s feeling kind of weird,” he admitted. “Do I ask you on an official date? Because you don’t really leave the Tower much, and I’m pretty sure that’s because you’re paranoid but in a semi-realistic way. Which kind of ruins the whole ‘take you out’ thing, and you already get grumpy when I get you things, so that’s also out of the question.”

“You already bought an entire closet’s worth of clothes for me. Needlessly, I might add.”

Tony waved dismissively. “You had a half-full bag and nothing else. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Not buying me a suit would have been a good place to start,” Bruce said dryly. He stood up, stretching the slightest bit as he did. “We don’t have to do anything, Tony. You look like you could stand to sleep, and I have some tests to run.” There was a moment of clear hesitation before Bruce pushed Tony’s hair back. “I’ll try and check on you around noon, all right? Try not to overthink things until then.”

“You’re asking a bird not to fly, Banner,” Tony retorted, curling up in his chair as if he would maybe get some sleep there.

Bruce scoffed, straightening up a bit. “I know. But at least try, for me.”

There was half a second where Tony was pretty sure Bruce was going to take the half-full coffee cup away when he left, but instead Bruce left him be, touching the back of his wrist before he left.

As anticlimactic as it really was, Tony was still left with a heart beating a little too hard and on less than sure ground of his own making. He dallied a little longer than he normally would before ending up in the lab.

And if he had J keep a close eye on the time, waiting for Bruce? No one knew that but him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This is a minor behemoth, but it's definitely a good thing? Actually, I'm hoping to start writing longer chapters like this much more regularly, especially since time's going to move forward a lot quicker from this point on.  
> As always, thanks for reading, and kudos/comments/etc are greatly appreciated. And concrit! Because I want to do better


	15. Chapter 15

There was this weird sense that nothing had really changed between him and Bruce. The touches had picked back up to the level they’d previously been at, the coffee runs started up again, and things had returned pretty much to normal.

Except Bruce no longer even made a show of pushing Tony back in front of the team, and every now and then he could get away with grabbing Bruce’s hand and towing him around the Tower with him.

Maybe Tony was overthinking it, though. For all intents and purposes, they already sort of acted like a couple, by conventional standards. There was just the matter where they’d never officially gone out or anything. And they hadn’t told anyone, but part of Tony liked it better that way. It was something that was just between them.

Natasha seemed to pick it up relatively quick, though. Or, she registered that something had changed since Tony had gotten something that sounded like a shovel talk, but it was directed at both he and Bruce in spite of the fact that Bruce was still in lab 3. And she’d left a set of horribly mangled comms when she left.

Maybe it was better that things didn’t obviously change. The fact that Tony got to curl up against Bruce’s side during movies and hang off of him when he did come back down to his lab for brief periods of time before going off to his own work was pretty fantastic.

“You’re going to have to give me Hulk numbers one of these days, you know,” Tony said, still fixing Clint’s comm. How the hell it got this ruined was a mystery to him, and part of him would rather it stayed a mystery to him. Skilled agent or not, Tony had firmly decided that the man was a walking disaster.

“That would require me being able to find those numbers. All prior testing done on him was inconclusive at best,” Bruce said, peering around the lab. “It’s a lot more cluttered in here when you’re not sharing with me. I don’t know why I’m surprised by that.”

Tony stopped pulling at wires, staring blankly ahead. “You know you gave me an impossible project, right? I can’t build a container for something I don’t know how to contain if I don’t have the numbers for it.”

“When I figure out how to test that, I’ll let you know.” Bruce ducked down, pressing a quick kiss to Tony’s temple and setting a fresh cup of coffee next to his elbow. “If you’re working on it now, just figure out how you’d contain Thor and then make it ten times stronger. It should give us a good start.”

“You’re working under the assumption I would even know  _ how _ to contain Thor,” Tony grumbled. “That would also require Thor being here so I could test how to contain him, but he disappeared before Natasha got back, so I don’t know what to tell you there.”

Bruce hummed softly, playing with the holographic display. “Then I’d suggest sending one of your own suits after it, or ask Steve to help you out.”

“Yeah, but eventually you’re going to have to test it yourself.” Tony drank some of the coffee, nose wrinkling a bit at the excess of sugar in this one. “Any plans for how we’re going to do that?”

“Trying not to think about it right now,” Bruce responded, sounding much lighter than the tenseness of shoulders indicated. “Get it to the point where we can test it and we’ll go from there, all right?”

Tony waved dismissively, trying to figure out which of Bruce’s plans he liked better for testing. The general answer was ‘neither’, but he could make it work either way. He could start with Steve, and go from there.

* * *

“You look happier.”

Tony looked up, rubbing his eyes. Belatedly, he realized he probably just smeared grime all over his face in the process. “Do I?” he asked, looking over at Pepper. She’d seen him looking worse; it was fine.

She smiled indulgently, looking ridiculously neat in contrast to his lab space. Now he could see why Bruce said it was more cluttered when he wasn’t down there.

“You don’t seem as erratic, at least. You look more… settled.”

Tony scoffed, setting aside his work. “You know, if Bruce were here, he would probably laugh at you for saying that. I mean, not to your face, because I think he has better manners than me about that, but.” He shrugged. He didn’t feel like he was any more settled than usual, honestly. The lack of restful sleep was piling up, but she didn’t know that. And he liked it better that way.

“He doesn’t know you like I do. You’re version of ‘settled’ looks a lot like most people’s ‘normal’.”

Tony bristled a little at that. It was true, he knew that. But he was just irritable enough that it rubbed him the wrong way. “He knows me just fine. Do you need to drop something off, or is this a social visit?”

She pursed her lips, picking up on his ire pretty quickly. “It’s a ‘make sure you’re alive and well’ visit. Not sleeping much again?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want to deal with this. Normally he’d love to have Pepper around, but right now? “Well, I’m alive. Sleep will come eventually.”

Tony didn’t really notice when Pepper crossed the room, nearly jumping out of his skin when she placed a hand over his shoulder. “You’ll figure it out, like you figure everything else out. Give it time.”

It took a few seconds before he placed his hand over hers, squeezing gently before getting back to work. There wasn’t really anything he could say to that.

* * *

“Seriously, Tones, you need to go to sleep at one point.”

Tony actually did jump, looking over to see Bruce standing there, who appeared to be more than a little disapproving of the fact that Tony was still hunched over his workbench.

“I’m working on something,” Tony said, motioning to the new pair of mangled comms, courtesy of Steve this time. He’d have to make them waterproof, by the looks of it. This was the second time this had happened, which meant he was going to have to just continually make Steve’s waterproof. Or at least resistant, to start.

Normally, he wouldn’t bother throwing himself into it right away. But there was this feeling in the bottom of his stomach that made him pretty sure that if Tony closed his eyes long enough, he’d be dreaming up something he really didn’t want to relive right now. And Tony didn’t want to take his chances with that.

“It’s seven in the morning. I’m pretty sure it can wait.” Bruce paused a bit, glancing around the holographs that were cluttered around the room. “Too much on your mind?”

Normally, Tony would be quick to brush that off. He had to be fine; he always had to be fine. Even little things like nightmares were something he had to push aside and ignore. But then… That was how he’d driven Pepper away, wasn’t it? And Tony was trying to do better this time.

“I feel like if I stop, I’m going to remember the wormhole,” he said softly. “And I’m really not up for thinking about that right now, so…” He shrugged helplessly, pulling apart the comm unit.

And absently wondering how the hell Steve managed to sever wires  _ inside _ the damn thing.

He tried not to startle when Bruce’s hand settled on his shoulder, a mirror of what Pepper had done just yesterday. “I won’t tell you to stop right now. But I will say that if there’s a way for me to help, I’m here.”

Tony shrugged, being careful not to move the shoulder Bruce was touching. “If I knew what would help, that would be great. But I don’t, so.”

The silence stretched out longer between them before Bruce finally broke it. “I'm guessing that's part of why you wanted me to sleep in your bed.”

Tony fidgeted a little bit with the wires, looking at where Steve had managed to sever them. Seriously, how the hell... Never mind. Not important right now. "I guess, yeah. It made sense in my head at the time. Everything was too quiet and you just... I could hear you breathing and that helped? Even though JARVIS was talking to me beforehand, and god knows that the shower wasn't quiet either. Just... Knowing someone else was physically there? It was nice. It  _ helped _ ."

At some point, Bruce had started rubbing small circles just above Tony's collar bone. "So, what I'm hearing is, it would possibly help if I was there with you. You could possibly sleep better if I was there. Or someone was there. Is that right?"

"When you say it like that, it sounds juvenile," Tony complained, relaxing under Bruce's touch. "Probably? But I don't want to put you out or anything. And I spent a lot of time working on your floor; wasting it like that would just suck."

Bruce scoffed, the circles continuing to deepen in pressure. “It would only be for when you can’t sleep on your own. I’d stay on my own floor most of the time. Though, if you’re really worried about wasting it, you can always just come down to mine instead of me coming up to yours.”

At this point, Tony was about ready to quit working and see if he could just drag Bruce to bed with him. In a completely non-sexual way, because that still hadn’t been approved. “I’ll think about it,” he said instead, a wry smile on his lips. “You’re good to me, you know? Always worrying.”

“You give me a lot to worry about. Always forgetting that you’re human and have to take care of yourself.”

Tony stuck his tongue out, earning a fond eyeroll. It wasn’t that he couldn’t take care of himself. It was that he’d rather take care of his work first and himself second. Or third.

“I’ll check in around lunch. Have JARVIS call me if you need me.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Tony waved him off, deciding to get back to the comms. Much as he hated it right now.

* * *

It was maybe two days later that he caved. At three in the morning, he was pretty sure that if he didn’t stop now, he would end up collapsed in the lab out of exhaustion. And he knew damn well there were two or three people who would throw a fit over that.

So three in the morning found him standing in front of Bruce’s bedroom, not sure if he should have checked with J if he was even awake, or if he should knock, or…

“Tones, you lurking in the doorway is creepy. If you’re going to come to bed, come in so the light isn’t keeping me up.”

Tony swallowed thickly, feet feeling heavy as he slowly moved towards the bed. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he said softly.

“You’re fine.” Bruce held up the covers, turning over when Tony crawled under. “Get some sleep, ok? Give me one less thing to worry about.”

Everything felt too heavy, but he still felt untethered. It felt like seconds of debating passed before Tony decided fuck it, and curled himself around Bruce’s back, being careful to keep space between the reactor and the fabric of Bruce’s shirt.

“About time,” Bruce muttered, dragging Tony’s arm to drape across his waist.

Tony huffed, nestling up as close as he dared. “Just following your lead, Brucie. Now shush and let me rest.”

It didn’t take long for Bruce’s breathing to even out with sleep. And all Tony had to do was match him and wait for (hopefully) the same to happen to him.

Though, apparently he couldn’t get entirely lucky. Another person in bed with him didn’t manage to keep away dreams about being stuck in space in a slowly failing suit. He just had to be grateful that he didn’t wake up screaming.

Apparently it hadn’t been long, since Bruce was still there, though he stirred when Tony had bolted upright. “You’re all right,” he murmured, voice sleep-heavy. Hands were blindly reaching, touching until they curled around Tony’s. “Come here, it’s ok.”

Belatedly, Tony realized he was hyperventilating and that his eyes were damp. It had felt so real; trying to call Pepper with the last of the suit’s energy, struggling to breathe as the air got thinner… 

“This probably isn’t the best impression to be leaving on you,” he said, laughing weakly in an attempt to derail any kind of in-depth conversation Bruce might want to have about this.

Bruce hummed noncommittally, gently tugging Tony down against him. “Don’t worry about any of that. It’s still early.”

“In the morning or in the relationship?” God, he felt like crawling out of his skin right then. Like he should be trying to leave instead of letting himself be wrapped up in Bruce’s arms. And yet…

“Don’t worry about any of that, ok? Just breathe with me,” Bruce instructed softly.

Normally, Tony would scoff at instructions like that, but all he could do was nod and tuck his head under Bruce’s chin.

It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world. But it grounded him as Bruce repeated that he was safe, and he was all right while smoothing slow circles against his back. Blessedly, Tony felt his heart-rate slow back to something closer to normal, though he was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to get any more sleep.

“I should go,” Tony said. It was pretty clear that the knot in his throat wasn’t going anywhere, and he’d rather deal with the crushing lack of sleep somewhere else. Preferably someplace Bruce couldn’t see him break down over it.

There was one more long stroke down his spine before Bruce pulled away. “Have JARVIS call me if you need anything.”

Tony nodded, feeling unbearably numb as he climbed out of Bruce’s bed and dragged himself back into the lab.

It took another five hours before he blacked out on the couch for a blessed six hours of unconsciousness.


	16. Chapter 16

Moving forward, Tony ended up in Bruce’s bed more often than his own. Or at least equally as often. It wasn’t fool-proof, but Tony liked to think that they both got something out of it, in spite of the fact that his nightmares woke up Bruce around half the time he was there. Bruce never complained, didn’t pry, and just pulled Tony close until he could breathe again.

In spite of having everything on the table, it still felt like he was vaguely in the dark. Boundaries still felt cloudy, and Tony found himself relying on Bruce to lead the way, though that didn’t always sit well with him. There was only so much initiation he could make when he was pretty sure anything past kissing was still out of bounds.

Team gatherings had gotten more sporadic. Steve had gotten dragged into more and more SHIELD missions, which meant they were still stuck on Episode V of Star Wars, and that Tony was at a standstill when it came to the containment unit that Bruce had started calling VERONICA.

What it stood for, if it stood for anything, Tony had no clue.

While team movie nights had been iffy, Tony usually could convince Bruce to sit with him on the communal room couches with something mindless playing on the screens on a fairly regular basis. They were the only two in the Tower who hadn’t ever been called away for SHIELD work, which suited Tony just fine.

“You know, I’m surprised you’re not the tactile one,” Bruce commented.

Tony’s brow furrowed, looking up at Bruce who had taken to combing through his hair while his head rested on Bruce’s lap. “I’m not even sure how you reached the conclusion that I’m not. Or were you expecting me to try and smother you now that I got the go-ahead?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

Mentally, he ran through the duration of their relationship, still barely weeks old, and compared it to others that he had previously. They looked mostly the same, but without the ostentatious gift-getting, the flashy dates, or the fucking.

“I mean, you still haven’t given me the green light for kissing or sex, and you’re still working on your super secret projects two floors above me, so.” Tony shrugged the best he could, gently squeezing Bruce’s thigh just above his knee. “Plus, I’m working on the whole ‘boundaries’ thing, and soaking up all your affection to make up for it.”

Bruce laughed softly, settling his free hand on Tony’s hip. “So you’re trying to be a good partner, is what I’m hearing.”

“I’d say it’s more succeeding rather than trying, but yeah.” Secretly, he preened over the term ‘partner’, and that Bruce recognized that’s what his effort was going towards. “So, does that mean you want me to touch you more? Because I’m definitely on board with that, if that’s where this conversation is going.”

There was a pause, not quite heavy and not particularly tense either. Maybe a little longer than Tony would normally find comfortable, but that was about the worst of it.

“I wouldn’t mind going a little further. The tests are coming out mostly normal so far, and I… wouldn’t be adverse if you wanted to be a little less cautious.”

Tony sat up abruptly, clambering a little less than gracefully so he could face Bruce. “How ‘less cautious’ are you thinking?” he asked, sounding overexcited to his own ears. He’d most likely cringe about it later.

Bruce snorted before leaning in to kiss Tony’s forehead. “How about the limit is set at ‘clothes stay on and completely fastened’ for now, and we’ll revisit it later?”

“You’re closing my loopholes before I can even find them,” Tony muttered. There was no real bite to his words; it was a lot clearer than what he’d been given before. ‘Match my pace’ only went so far.

“That’s because you’re the type to exploit them for all they’re worth, if you can get away with it. And sometimes even when you can’t get away with it and you think you can talk your way out of the trouble.”

“It wounds me that you think so lowly of me, Brucie-bear. I’m hurt, really, I am,” Tony deadpanned, returning to his spot and stretching across the rest of the couch. He’d be more offended if Bruce wasn’t speaking from at least some personal experience.

Bruce’s hands returned back to Tony’s side and hair, gently smoothing circles against his temple. “My poor sweetheart. I’ll have to make it up to you somehow, won’t I?”

Tony hummed his confirmation, letting himself sink deeper into the moment. It was nice, really. Comfortable, probably in ways he hadn’t found with people other than his closest circle after years and years of being around each other. With Bruce though… It was just easy with him.

* * *

Tony didn’t wait until another sleepless night to turn up in Bruce’s bed. And Bruce didn’t comment on it, and simply curled up close to Tony’s chest like he’d taken to doing when they slept together. Unlike Tony, he didn't keep a lot extra on his bed. He didn't hoard blankets, and there wasn't more than the minimum of two pillows, and were it not for Bruce, Tony would feel a little unmoored by the minimalism.

In spite of the calm, Tony was very aware of Bruce’s every movement. Too aware of him, and the way his ribs shifted as he breathed, and the warmth radiating off him.

It was dark, Tony securely kept the blankets around his chest, despite the heat of the room. He could tell Bruce wasn’t asleep, however. He’d learned how his breathing shifted, and it was still too shallow. And maybe their earlier conversation made Tony feel a bit bolder.

“I want to try something,” Tony said. Too loud, he realized too late, flinching a bit at the thought. If Bruce had actually  _ been _ asleep… 

The sheets rustled softly as he moved. “I feel like you’re going to do it regardless of what I have to say about it,” he said, voice heavier than normal.

That was probably teasing. Still, the thought hurt the slightest bit, because Tony  _ did _ respect boundaries when they were firmly placed in front of him. “I’d stop if you asked me to.”

“I know you would,” he said placatingly. “What is it?” Probing hands sought out Tony’s, touching the back of his wrist.

Maybe he should back out now. That might be a good idea, honestly; it wasn’t too late. But he couldn’t back down from the ledge, even if it was self-imposed. Especially since in the morning, this would seem like such a small thing that wouldn’t even warrant getting nervous over.

Slowly, he edged the blankets down, letting the eerie blue glow of the reactor illuminate the room just enough to see in spite of the shirt he still had over it.

Bruce frowned a bit, a small furrow between his brows despite the fact that his eyes slid down to take in the light shining through the thin fabric  for a brief moment. “You’re about to do something rash, aren’t you?” The mild exasperation in his tone was belied by a small smile, and more importantly the fact that Bruce wasn’t actively trying to stop him.

Hopefully the latter wouldn’t change. “I want it on the record that you said I  _ could _ be more rash, so this is on you,” Tony pointed out. Stalling for a little bit of time, though he wasn’t nervous. Why would he be nervous? It wasn’t like he was going to get pushed away, probably. With any luck.

Tony took a slow breath, steadying himself by sliding a hand through Bruce’s hair. Marveling maybe a little too long at how the curls caught around his fingers, and the fact that Bruce easily leaned into the touch after barely a moment’s hesitation.

Was he really about to do this? In the middle of the night, in Bruce’s bed when he was pretty damn aware of the fact that he still wasn’t allowed to go as far as he normally could?

“I can hear you fretting,” Bruce murmured. “Take a breath; it’s all right.”

Tony forced himself to do just that, visually tracing over Bruce’s face. He didn’t look worried the slightest bit.

He had to remind himself that he wasn’t screwing this up. There was vague permission given. More the point, Bruce had proved that he was fully capable of pushing Tony away without even the slightest problem, so even if he  _ was _ about to overstep it wouldn’t be a long-lasting thing.

“Stop me if you need to,” Tony instructed softly.

It was awkward, honestly. Trying to find the right angle while laying down, and the only light that he had to see by came from his chest, so that quickly got stifled between their skin and the covers. But he forced himself through it until their mouths were touching, barely. Enough that he could feel Bruce’s breath against his skin.

He stayed still, giving Bruce ample time to pull away before pressing closer. Tony’s hands cupped Bruce’s jaw as their lips slotted together and he absently noted how well they fit. His heart was racing as he pushed closer Bruce, letting the sheets tangle between their legs.

God, it had been too long since he’d done anything like this. Fine, his last relationship had ended maybe a year ago, but he hadn’t had his usual flings to fill the time between then and now.

So maybe he let himself go a little further than he originally intended. He pressed his teeth against the softness of Bruce’s lips, relishing in the soft hum it earned him, and the way Bruce let him in without a second thought.

And maybe he let himself be a little greedy. Hands rucking up the soft fabric of Bruce’s shirt, not quite touching skin, but trying to get as close as he dared to the line Bruce had set for him. Though, he was pretty sure the ‘clothes stay on’ line was pretty damn blurred at this point.

It felt like hours before Bruce finally pulled away, breathing a little less even than normal and for a brief moment, Tony worried that things were about to go wrong again.

Belatedly, he realized that Bruce’s hands hadn’t even touched him the entire time. They’d fallen away the second Tony drew closer and he was trying not to initially assume the worst. They were in this together, right? And he hadn’t said ‘stop’ or ‘no’ or anything like that…

“You were a lot calmer a few seconds ago,” Bruce commented, tucking himself neatly against Tony’s chest once again. Only now did he touch, arms wrapping around Tony’s waist. “Well. Not calmer. But your mind wasn’t racing for a moment there.”

Tony hesitated, smoothing Bruce’s shirt back down. “You read me too easily. It’s like you’re in my head or something,” he said, actively deflecting. It’s not like he really could say anything in regards to the overthinking.

“You’re just really obvious,” Bruce countered. “Maybe not to everyone, but I’ve seen you with your guard down often enough that I think I’m pretty well-versed in you.”

“No wonder it feels like I’m playing blind… You’re guard’s up so often that it’s hard to get a read on you.”

He could feel Bruce shrug, fingers absently sliding over his spine. “I’m getting used to it. I don’t want you second-guessing yourself all the time when we’re doing this. It’s nice when you just let yourself go with it.”

‘Nice’. Not quite what he was going for, but he could work with it. Tony let himself curl around Bruce best he could, kissing the top of his head. He wasn’t sure how he could say ‘I’m used to doing this part first and emotions later’ without making himself sound like he’d slept around with everyone and their mother. As true as that may have been in the past, it wasn’t something he wanted to actively admit to.

“We’ll sort it out,” Bruce said eventually. “We’ve got time to figure out how to work.”

* * *

The first time Tony had to get a suit ready for an Avengers-related mission was a little jarring, especially since it wasn’t the entire team. Just him, Steve, and Clint, since Natasha was already off doing something else and Thor was still… somewhere.

“You’re sure you’ll be all right on your own?” Tony asked for probably the fifth time since finding out he had to leave. He had his armor by his side, neatly packed away as a briefcase.

Logically, he knew that he would only be gone for two days at the most. Two days if something went wrong, and only one day if everything went off without a hitch. There was no reason for him to be worrying about Bruce, and yet, here he was, across the room from the quinjet and waiting for the cue that they  _ had _ to leave.

“I’ll be fine, Tones,” Bruce said patiently, hand resting on the back of Tony’s neck. “Be careful out there, ok? Don’t come back injured if you can help it.”

“You say that like I try to come back injured,” Tony complained, even as he leaned into Bruce’s touch. He was going to miss this. Two days felt like a long time in the face of what he would be going without.

“Stark, we’ve leaving,” Steve called, voice echoing across the room.

Tony sighed, turning long enough to shoot the blond a glare. Unwarranted, he’d admit, but all the same. He didn’t want to leave, really. Not without Bruce. “Guess that’s my cue, huh?” he asked with a wry smile.

There was something assessing about Bruce’s gaze before he pulled Tony in, sealing their lips together with a sort of vehemence that caught him off guard. Something searing in the way he held Tony in place to just make him accept it, and now was definitely not the time for Tony’s dick to be getting interested, but it was damn hard to remind himself of that fact.

It wasn’t long, unfortunately, but it was long enough for Tony to feel a little shaky when Bruce pulled back with a small, embarrassed smile on his lips as he ducked his head.

“Get back to me safe,” he said as his touch drifting away.

Tony would admit to being a little dazed the entire trip, but was at least present enough to spend most of the flight sassing back and forth with Clint as they went west.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, we're getting to the point where the chapters are going to take a little longer for me to write/get out. And since I'm travelling pretty soon, I might stagger my updates to every week and a half so that I can get far enough ahead that I won't stress so much over it. I know next week's will still be on time, so I'll know for sure by then if I'm shifting my schedule or not.


	17. Chapter 17

Everything went to shit about five seconds after the team touched down.

Or, at least that’s when Tony was assuming, since he hadn’t been there for the touchdown. He’d gotten out while they were still in the air, much to Steve’s ire. Though, he’d had permission to get out so he didn’t know why Steve had been huffy over it.

They’d gone in with bad intel, under-prepared, and the fact that they all got out felt like some sort of miracle. ‘Uninjured’ was a whole different matter; Tony had been the one who needed to navigate them home since Steve spent most of the trip bandaging Clint up, in spite of Clint’s protesting that he was fine, that it was only a flesh wound.

Tony winced immediately after laughing at that quip.

It had taken twice as long as even their worst-case scenario, but that was... fine. They got what they needed, no one had gotten shot, and if the worst that had to be done was Steve stitching up a gash in Clint’s side, well… He’d take it. And steadfastly ignore the fact that everything hurt even by his own standards.

When they stumbled out of the quinjet, no one said much. Tony gripping his folded up armor tightly, dreading the ride home already.

Clint shuffled towards the elevator, muttering about how Nat would kill him if he didn’t go get himself checked out by medical before going home.

By all accounts, Steve probably looked the best out of all of them. Tony had watched a lot of the bruises fade away just on the trip back. That wasn’t to say he looked  _ good _ …

“Need a ride somewhere, or are you sticking around?” Tony asked, pretty sure he was going to pass out the second he was in the back of the car. The company would go unnoticed, and it would give him an excuse to send his driver away without taking the time to fuss.

Steve shrugged, looking tense still. “I took my bike here. Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

He didn’t have the strength to argue, and settled for limping towards the entrance. Happy should be there waiting by now, and he’d really rather just get home and maybe try and get some sleep. Maybe take a shower first, since he felt unbelievably grimy and was wearing the exact same thing he’d put on four days ago.

Happy was thankfully quiet, opening the door with the usual pleasantries but not really chattering much beyond that, in a rare turn of events. Maybe Tony looked worse than he thought.

It seemed like he probably fell asleep for at least a little bit, because it felt like he blinked and then was being led out of the car by Happy.

“Welcome home, Sir. Doctor Banner is waiting for you in lab 1,” JARVIS said. “He requested that you come up the moment you returned.”

God, he wasn’t up for this. But he also didn’t want to say no, because he really missed Bruce and didn’t particularly want to worry him any more than he probably had already. “Yeah, ok J. Tell him I’m heading up.”

He waved Happy off, though he could feel the man’s hesitation even as he limped over to the elevator to go up. Happy was, thankfully, over the whole over-protective streak that had plagued the months immediately following the latest fiasco with Justin Hammer. For the most part. Tony got the sense that the fact that he was now living with other people had done a bit to assuage that worry.

JARVIS didn’t really talk to him on the way up, but he supposed that he hadn’t really missed anything in his absence. Especially since he’d had the AI in his ear the entire time.

When he stumbled off the elevator, he didn’t immediately see Bruce. Everything looked eerily empty, since the displays were all down and… Someone had moved his projects.

Tony sighed heavily, not really having the energy to be upset over it right then. Later, after he’d slept for a week and it didn’t hurt to take a deep breath. “Bruce,” he called, setting his armor down on his newly-emptied workbench. “JARVIS told me to come up here.”

For a brief, panicked moment, he wondered if he’d imagined hearing that. If JARVIS hadn’t said a word, and that Bruce wasn’t even aware he was home yet.

All that worry went away when Bruce came out from the back, a heavy first aid kit in tow. “Remember when I told you not to get yourself hurt?” he asked, worry deepening the lines in his forehead, making them visible even from a distance.

“Remember when I told you that I don’t try to?” Tony asked in return. “Were you waiting for me up here? Because while I appreciate the sentiment, I’d honestly appreciate a shower and a bed more.”

Bruce set the aid kit down next to Tony’s armor before gentle fingers started probing along his face, backing off when Tony hissed as he came too close to a scrape. “I can patch you up after you clean up,” he said in agreement. “Do you need me to help you out, or will you be fine on your own?”

Help would probably be appreciated, if Tony was being completely honest. But at the same time…

“I’ll be all right,” he said. Being battered and bruised was far from what he wanted Bruce’s first impression of him naked to be. In spite of the fact that, technically, Tony’s first glimpse of Bruce in the same state had been of a trembling, sweat-soaked mess.

Different parameters, he justified to himself.

Bruce didn’t seem to think much of it, simply grabbing the kit and offering Tony his free hand. “Let me help you down, at least. Your floor, I’m assuming?”

Tony nodded, letting himself lean against Bruce’s side for a moment.

Well. It was intended to only be for a moment, but Tony couldn’t quite find it in him to straighten up again once he was using Bruce to support himself.

For what it was worth, Bruce didn’t seem to mind, gently guiding Tony to the elevator and then to Tony’s bedroom.

“Go clean up,” he ordered softly. “I’ll help you out when you’re done.”

Tony nodded a little mechanically before doing as he told, shedding clothes before he even got the bathroom door shut.

The water was blessedly hot, doing a little to wake him up as it poured over his skin. Unlike after the battle with Loki, it didn’t swirl blackly down the drain, and he was pretty damn sure that he was imagining the faint reddish tinge that he saw instead. He might be hurt, but he didn’t think he was  _ that _ hurt.

Only after he stepped out of the spray did he realize that he forgot to bring a change of clothes with him, which really just ruined half the point of not letting Bruce help him to begin with.

He did his best, wrapping a couple towels around him to hide the worst of it, trying to hold one of them closed over the reactor as well. It was the little things, really. Bruce just seemed content where he was, legs folded on the bed as he picked over the bandages and mostly-used tubes of burn cream.

“I’m waiting to see the organization that keeps SI running and your large projects on track,” he commented, barely glancing up to Tony. “JARVIS said you bruised your ribs. Do you mind if I check for myself?”

Tony grimaced, well aware that he should probably agree. More because he didn’t want Bruce to worry rather than anything else. “Yeah, just let me…” He gestured vaguely towards the closet, wanting to at least put on  _ something _ before this… examination started. While he doubted he’d get to wear a shirt for it, it would be nice to at least have pants on.

Bruce’s brow furrowed for a minute before understanding dawned and brought a faint pink to his cheeks. “Right, I’ll just step out for a bit,” he said, standing a little stiffly and closing the bedroom door behind him.

He let out a slow breath, well aware that he had to actually deal with this in spite of the fact that he didn’t particularly want to. All Tony really wanted to do was pull on something soft, curl up under the sheets and sleep for a solid twenty four hours.

He got to do the first part, at least. Tony ended up pulling on a worn out t-shirt and sweatpants, even though he knew that Bruce was going to be insisting that the former come off for at least a little while.

“You can come back in,” Tony called, remembering to actually hang up the damp towels. He got the sense that Bruce would at least give him a mildly disapproving look if he left them lying in a heap on the floor. And he steadfastly ignored the way his wrist protested at the motion of tugging them into place.

Bruce was quiet when he reentered, sitting on the edge of the bed once more. “You look a little better,” he said, a smile on his lips.

Tony grimaced a bit, settling down next to Bruce. “While I feel a little better, I also still feel like shit and would like to get this over with.”

With a soft sigh, Bruce nodded and motioned towards the bed. “Sit down, then. The faster we get started the sooner you can get some sleep, because honestly? You look like you're about to collapse."

“You really know how to sweet-talk a guy,” Tony muttered, even as he pulled the shirt from his damp skin and settled down on the edge of the bed. And then promptly pulled the top sheet over his shoulders.

Bandaging his face came first. The suit kept Tony protected from a lot that happened around him, but the fact remained that if he got knocked around hard enough, he was going to get banged up by the suit around him.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Bruce said, sounding relieved. “I should only need…” He dropped his hands, picking through the pile of bandages before he found the ones he was looking for. “This is going to sting a bit, so I’m sorry.”

Tony winced when Bruce pinched the split skin on his forehead together, before he set a butterfly bandage over it. “I’ve had worse, come on,” Tony said, all bravado. Sure, he  _ had _ had worse. That didn’t mean it hurt any less now.

Bruce clicked his tongue, opening the tube of antibiotic cream. “Honestly, I can’t do much else for the rest of these scrapes. You scared me when you walked into the lab with a bloody face, you know. I thought… Well. JARVIS said nothing was seriously wrong, but.”

“But it’s nice to be sure,” Tony finished quietly.

The only answer he got to that was a tight smile before Bruce started spreading the ointment across his face. Gentle dabs across his cheek. A smooth line of it down his jaw. Tony let himself relax into it, in spite of the shocks of pain it occasionally set off.

The touches seemed to hesitate once they dropped lower to Tony’s throat.

“May I?” Bruce asked softly, motioning towards the fabric draped over him.

Tony nodded a little stiffly, reminding himself that Bruce had seen it before. Not the injuries, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen Tony in that state of undress.

And wasn’t he trying to get to the point where he was comfortable enough with Bruce seeing him bare of everything?

Bruce was slow, pushing the light fabric off of Tony’s shoulders in inches until it pooled around his waist. His lips pressed into a thin line, and Tony could feel the heat of a blush burning across his face. It was fine, he reminded himself.

“ _ This _ looks bad, Tones,” Bruce said, gingerly touching just above the start of the bruising.

“It doesn’t feel particularly good either,” Tony returned, feeling a little more defensive than he should. Of course it looked bad… ‘Protected’ didn’t mean ‘unscathed’.

Bruce didn’t rise to the bait, instead taking time to pack up a lot of what he’d pulled out of the first aid kit. “I’ll be careful,” he promised after he’d put away everything but a couple of ace bandages.

Tony had to close his eyes for a moment, but he did nod. “Just… yeah. Careful,” he echoed.

In spite of how gentle Bruce’s hands were, Tony still hissed when they pressed against his sides. The bruising was spectacular, if he did say so himself. Whether or not the pain went deeper than that, he couldn’t really tell.

“Sorry,” Bruce murmured, though he continued to feel around the area. “It doesn’t feel like anything’s broken, at least. You’ll be sore for a few weeks, and I really think you should put ice on it tomorrow.”

Small miracles, Tony thought. He wouldn’t have to get uncomfortably wrapped up in that case. “Can I…” He trailed off, already grasping at the sheets that were pooled around his waist. In the not-so-recent past, Tony probably would have reveled at being out and semi-naked in front of someone like Bruce, but now, not so much.

Bruce’s hands lingered along Tony’s ribs a bit longer than necessary, but he did drop them with a small nod. There was an uncomfortable rush of relief and annoyance that jolted through Tony.

Again, he reminded himself that he was supposed to be getting used to this kind of thing again. So he made a very conscious decision to just pull the sheets back up over his shoulders instead of immediately pulling his shirt back on.

It seemed like he couldn’t hide the slight discomfort from Bruce, however. “You don’t have to do that, you know,” he said softly, eyes dropping to the pile of blankets.

Tony opened his mouth, ready to argue that he  _ did _ have to, that he shouldn’t be so awkward about this, but Bruce beat him to the punch.

“I know you don’t like it. So you don’t have to try and make yourself show it off, especially not right now.” Bruce reached up, gently cradling Tony’s cheek without touching any of the small cuts or scrapes. “We’re going slow, remember?”

“You just said we could speed up a bit,” Tony pointed out. He was quick to lean into Bruce’s palm, even as he clutched the thin fabric over his chest. “I said I’d follow your lead about what we do together, but why can’t I push myself a little faster when it doesn’t have any bearing on us?”

Bruce sighed, thumb rubbing against his cheekbone. “I won’t stop you. But you’re probably uncomfortable enough as it is right now. You shouldn’t have one more thing.”

Tony waved him off ineffectively, pulling himself further onto the bed so he could cross his legs, grimacing at the stiffness of his knees. “Honestly, once I’m asleep I won’t even care. And I’d really like to be asleep soon, so.”

There was a moment of hesitation before Bruce nodded. “Do you want me to stay, or would you be more comfortable if you had the space to yourself?”

The last four days had been spent in uncomfortably close quarters with two other people. And while Tony constantly was surrounded by people, he always made sure to punctuate it with long stints with just himself and his bots just to reground himself. So after four days straight he’d really been kind of keen to  _ not _ having someone within a five foot radius of himself, but… It was Bruce.

“I always want you to stay,” he admitted softly, eyes focusing on the rucked up pile of blankets at the foot of the bed. “It’s up to you, but… That’s where I stand.”

He heard Bruce sigh and the rustle of fabric. “All right. I’ll stay, if you’re sure.”

* * *

Tony was pretty sure they weren’t touching when he fell asleep. Memories of Bruce keeping careful space between them floated back before he could even feel the soreness of his muscles set in.

But there was no denying the arm over him, the hand resting just above the waist of his sweatpants and the warmth against his bare back.

It was that last detail that got him to startle, awareness setting in sharply. Right. He didn’t put a shirt back on after Bruce checked him over. And he’d been adamant about not doing so.

“Finally awake?” Bruce pulled away, and Tony was almost immediately sorry for that lose.

He stretched, wincing a bit as he felt his shoulders and ribs pull uncomfortably. “What time is it?” he asked, voice sounding almost painfully scratchy.

Actually, everything felt kind of painful when he stopped to think about it.

“5:28 in the morning, Sir,” JARVIS answered promptly. “You have been sleeping approximately fourteen hours.”

“No wonder everything hurts,” Tony muttered, plastering himself face-down against the mattress. Only to pick himself up again to look at Bruce, brows drawn together. “Have you been here the entire time?”

Bruce smoothed a warm palm against Tony’s shoulders, chuckling when Tony made a soft, plaintive sound and easily started to press his fingertips against one of the larger knots in Tony’s back. “I left for a little bit. I had to put away the kit and change, but… I’ve been here most of the time.”

Tony nodded vaguely, letting himself go pliant on the bed. All right, that was fine. Sweet, actually. Though, he couldn’t help but feel at least a little bad over it. “Hope you weren’t too bored. That’s a long time to be in one place, especially since you probably didn’t get to do much.”

“I don’t mind,” Bruce promised. “I did plenty while you were gone.” His hand paused, wrapping around the curve of Tony’s shoulder and squeezing lightly before pulling back. “I’m going to get you some coffee and painkillers. Try not to move too much until I get back?”

Tony scoffed, propping himself up on his elbows. “You know you’re asking too much, right?” he asked, pulling a pillow up to cover the reactor.

Bruce smiled indulgently as he got out of bed. “I know. But I also know you’ll try just because I asked.”

And damn it if he wasn’t right. Tony grumbled under his breath, trying to get up out of spite. It got Bruce to laugh, even as he ducked down to kiss Tony’s temple before leaving.

In all honesty, he didn’t mind so much. It was something he wouldn’t mind getting used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies (: So, I've decided I'm going to switch over to an 'every other week' schedule for the month of June, just so I have time to get ahead for when convention season really starts to set in. Plus, I'm working on a rather extensive one-shot right now, and I'm trying not to lose my ambition for that one as well. So sorry in advance for the temporarily slow updates, but I'll get one up next week as well before officially slowing down a bit.


	18. Chapter 18

Recovery was never Tony’s strong point for the sole reason of it requiring patience.  And while he _ could _ be patient, it wasn’t something he liked to do when he could avoid it. Tony enjoyed living as fast as he worked, but Bruce had effectively put him on hold for about two weeks while his ribs healed up properly.

Which was stupid, considering they were bruised, and not broken.

In spite of Bruce’s insistence, Tony managed to spend at least a little time every day working in the lab. Not on anything big, but Bruce didn’t seem to mind if he hung around and ran numbers between waking up and lunch. It was only afterwards that Bruce tended to try and herd him to doing something not-work related, and while Tony had resisted multiple people attempting to do that exact same thing, Bruce apparently could do the kicked-puppy look well enough for it to work more than half the time.

That was how Pepper found him, wrist in a brace and fiddling with a bot he’d smuggled out of the lab earlier during the day.

“I thought we were past the whole ‘improvised workspace’ thing,” she said mildly, making Tony jump and almost drop the delicate screws all over the floor.

Tony looked up to glare at her, though the look faltered as soon as he really  _ saw _ her.

For a second, it was like 2007 all over again. Pepper, with files under her arm, blouse open enough to showcase the smooth skin of her--

“You got it removed.”

A small, bitter smile touched her lips as she fastened a button to hide the newly smoothed-out skin. “I told you I would. Seemed like the right time.” She shrugged slightly, setting the folders on the counter. “But I do need you to go over these and have Happy send them back to me.”

“You’re not staying?” Bruce asked, easily announcing his presence as he crossed the room. “You're supposed to be resting, Tones. You're still injured.”

Pepper’s brows lifted, smile shifting to something closer to amused as Bruce looped an arm around Tony’s waist and took the coffee out of his hands before leaving the room just as suddenly. Well. He paused long enough to kiss Tony’s cheek, but that was about it. He didn’t even give Pep a chance to answer him.

And Tony was struck dumb enough that he didn’t even have a snappy retort before the elevator doors closed behind him.

There were definitely going to be questions later. Tony was going to have to visit lab 3 under the pretense of getting his coffee back.

“I thought Rhodey was the only one allowed to call you ‘Tones’,” Pepper stated, snapping Tony back to the present. “And no one was allowed to even touch your coffee.”

Warmth flooded his cheeks as he grimaced. “You know I can’t say no to my favorites. But the coffee-stealing… I might have to have a word with him over that.”

She snorted inelegantly. “You just want an excuse to hassle him,” she accused lightly, reaching out to squeeze his hand for a brief moment. “Don’t forget the paperwork, all right? I’m not above hassling  _ you  _ if I have to.”

Tony waved her off with a small smile. He was very well aware that she would make good on her word if he procrastinated too long. “I’ll get around to it. Now go do whatever important thing is keeping you from staying and enjoying my company.”

He spent a little longer than he should have looking at both the files and his work, trying to figure out how to move both at once. In the end, he had to make two separate trips: first to move the bot up to his room, and then he had to go back and grab the files before going up to see Bruce.

“You don’t even drink coffee,” Tony said in lieu of a greeting. Though, he stopped short when he saw that Bruce had a needle in his arm and a couple vials of blood on the table next to him.

For what it was worth, Bruce didn’t so much as flinch at Tony’s arrival. He just capped off another vial, pulled the needle out and pressed a cotton ball over the injection site. “Well, I didn’t drink any of yours, and it should still be warm so I don’t think there’s anything to complain about,” he reasoned. He flashed a brief grin at Tony before motioning to the table closest to the door.

Tony looked at him dubiously, steadfastly ignoring the fact that apparently Bruce was just drawing his own blood up here like it wasn’t even a big deal.

Maybe for him it wasn’t a big deal. Tony didn’t know what Bruce had been doing up here; maybe he was just taking random samples and testing them.

Actually, that was kind of a sickening thought, and Tony vaguely wished it hadn’t occurred to him.

Still, he set the files down so he could pick up the coffee instead. He might as well settle himself in for a while if Bruce wasn’t going to immediately ask him to leave. “I think you earned Pepper’s favor in one fell swoop so if that’s what you were going for, good job. She’s not going to let me live it down.”

A perfectly innocent smile spread across his lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I just wanted to check in on my partner to make sure he wasn’t overworking himself. And I happened to notice he was working in the kitchen, so we might have a few words about that later.”

Tony sighed, mouth twisting into a grimace. “It’s bad enough you took my coffee; you’re going to lecture me about my work habits as well?”

Bruce was methodical as he crossed the space, depositing the vials into one of the machines on his way without seeming to miss a step. “You know I won’t stop you from working, so long as you’re being safe. And I’m pretty sure pulling something apart outside the lab is less than safe.”

“You’re no fun,” Tony said, mock-pouting. “But back to my original point. Trying to show off a little in front of Pep? I didn’t peg you for the jealous type, Banner.”

An odd look flitted across Bruce’s face, though it was shuttered away before Tony could place it. “I wouldn’t call it showing off…”

Tony rolled his eyes, reaching over to flick Bruce’s forehead. “Honey, that was probably one of the more possessive displays of affection I’ve been on the receiving end of. Not  _ the _ most, because that would involve clothes coming off and teeth, and all that fun stuff that’s still off limits.”

“I wasn’t aware that sex was a possessive display of affection,” Bruce deadpanned, swatting Tony’s hand away. “I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time.”

“I mean, it is if you do it in front of other people, so maybe I’m the one who’s been doing it wrong.”

There was an awkward, tense moment after that, and mentally Tony was kicking himself. Alright, so he had a long history of sleeping around. That didn’t mean he should be openly teasing about how sordid it had been.

“Yeah, you can probably count that off the list of things we’ll be doing in bed,” Bruce finally said. “I’m not sure I can handle being that openly possessive of you.”

“But stealing my coffee is totally in bounds?” Tony asked, quick to move the conversation away from sex. Which was a pretty surprising turn from how he usually handled the topic.

Bruce hummed noncommittally, palm curling around the side of Tony’s neck. “I’ll admit to being a jealous man. But maybe I just wanted to get you up here so you wouldn’t be tinkering in the kitchen and I know that taking your coffee is the best way to distract you.”

“Jealous, huh?” Tony mentally started running through ways he could play to that before stopping. There was no need for that, right? He already got what he wanted, for the most part. And there was no proof that Bruce wouldn’t just walk away if given a chance, so playing that game might just backfire.

“She may as well know that you’re spoken for, since you made that decision,” Bruce reasoned. Though the tone was belied by the slightly smug look he wore.

Tony scoffed, leaning over to kiss Bruce’s forehead. “I think you just wanted to show off. And who can blame you, since I’m such a catch?”

Bruce smiled softly, placing a kiss just above one of the scrapes still on his cheek. “I got pretty lucky with you, yeah.”

* * *

It was a little over a month before Bruce stopped mothering him about the ribs and wrist. The cuts and scrapes had healed quite a bit faster, but the bruising… Well. That had stuck around for a bit longer.

But six weeks later, Bruce had told him that he was all clear to resume working at his ‘obsessive pace’ and stopped trying to lure him out of the lab after lunch.

For the most part.

“I need to try something,” Bruce said, not long after delivering fresh coffee.

Tony frowned, putting aside the new schematics for Steve’s suit. The guy needed a serious upgrade if he was going to be going on stealth missions, and no one else seemed keen on doing that. “Should I be worried? You look worried.”

Bruce grimaced a bit, picking at his nails. “It’s not a bad thing, necessarily,” he hedged, eyes firmly staying on anything  _ but _ Tony.

Instantly, Tony was assuming that it was a bad thing. Something awful. What, Tony had no clue since he couldn’t think of anything bad that he would want to try, but the feeling of uneasiness was there. He motioned for Bruce to continue anyways, figuring that if nothing else it would just be best to get it over with.

“It’s just… weird,” Bruce hedged, shifting his weight. “And I’m not entirely sure how to ask this of you.”

Tony’s brow furrowed, really not sure what Bruce was trying to get at at this point. Something weird, something that probably wasn’t good… It left a lot open, but nothing that immediately jumped out to him as a possibility. “You’re starting to freak me out. Will it make it better if I promise not to laugh at you or mock you? Because seriously, the curiosity is killing me right now.”

Bruce pulled a face, nose wrinkling. “Tones, it’s weird. And I’m only half sure I want to even do this to begin with.”

Tony huffed, kicking his leg out enough to gently nudge against Bruce’s calf. “Just spill, all right? Put it out there even if you decide you don’t want to do it so you don’t have to worry about it later.”

Finally, Bruce looked up at him, looking both wholly unimpressed and anxious at the same time. “It’s testing related,” he said, keeping it vague even now.

Testing… Ok. That narrowed it down. Tony was pretty sure that saliva had already been deemed ‘not dangerous’, so… “Is this you asking me to jerk you off or something, because I’m pretty sure that’s only weird if you make it weird.”

Judging by the slight glare and red tinge on Bruce’s face, he’d just about got it in one. Which, impressive, but Tony wasn’t sure why Bruce was being awkward about it.

“I’m not sure if your… presence would set him off or not. So I’m not sure if I’d want you to touch, at least until it’s been proven to be safe.”

Tony blinked, taking a few seconds to make sure he heard that right. And then make sure he understood the implications right. “So… You want me to watch you get yourself off from a safe and respectable distance, and eventually maybe let me jerk you off for safety purposes?”

“Weird enough for you?” Bruce asked, a slightly bitter intonation to his words. “Look, it’s not a ‘right now’ thing. Just… I’d feel better for when we  _ do _ get intimate if I know that you won’t get hurt in the process.”

He hummed softly, trying to process this and not looked confused in the process. Tony slung an arm around Bruce’s shoulders, leaning against his side. “I’m game for it whenever you want to set it in motion. Would it help if I told you that it won’t be the weirdest thing I’ve done sex-wise, or would that just open up a whole can of worms neither of us wants to look at?”

“Now I’m just wondering how much the tabloids got right about you, so I’d classify that as ‘not helpful’.” In spite of his words, Bruce still turned to wrap his arms around Tony, one hand settled on the back of his neck. “Thank you, really. You’ve been so patient with me over this; more so than you should have to be.”

Tony rolled his eyes, propping his chin on Bruce’s shoulder. “You make it sound like I’m being a saint for not rushing us into bed,” he teased.

“Aren’t you?” Bruce snarked right back. He pulled away, giving Tony the chance to kiss his temple while Bruce unwrapped them. “Thank you. I mean it. I know this situation isn’t really ideal…”

“Brucie,  _ I’m _ not ideal. We’re making it work for us,” Tony said, a reminder. “Go. Stop freaking out and let me know when you want to do your safety-conscious version of foreplay. You know how to find me.”

He lingered for a moment, hands hovering over Tony before he seemed to settle back into himself enough to leave.

Leaving Tony wondering if he was really signing himself up for potentially seeing the Other Guy for the first time since the battle, or if Bruce was still being paranoid about it.

He was hoping for the latter, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious.

* * *

They didn’t get to it right away. But as the days ticked by, Tony was allowed to push the lines a little further. Kisses dragged on until Tony was pretty sure his lips were bruised with it. There were nights when he’d drag Bruce’s hands to rest under his shirt, against the mostly unblemished skin of his back.

“I thought you would talk more in bed,” Bruce commented, hands firmly laced in Tony’s hair and holding him in a vaguely uncomfortable arc.

In spite of the roughness of his grip, Bruce’s lips were still soft against his neck. Ridiculously gentle, really. If there was a mark left behind, Tony would be utterly shocked.

“I’m a little preoccupied at the moment,” Tony retorted, mildly irritated by the comment. Sure, he normally was pretty talkative. But something about the way Bruce was…

“I’m the one doing all the work here,” Bruce said, tightening his hold until Tony’s head was urged further back.

Tony’s nails dug lightly into his shoulders, hips jerking insistently. While his cock wasn't entirely in the game yet,  few more minutes of this would definitely do the job. “Fuck that’s good,” he breathed, hardly registering Bruce’s words.

He should have figured it was too good, to be honest. Bruce eased off slowly, even though he scraped his teeth against Tony’s throat  _ while _ slowing down, because that wasn't being a tease at all.

“Babe,” Tony complained. Hell, it couldn't even be categorized as anything other than a whine and that was beyond grating.

Bruce hummed, and he could  _ feel _ the sound vibrate against his Adam's apple. “Soon, ok? We'll get there soon.”

Tony let out a frustrated huff, nails digging in for a brief moment. He was right, of course Bruce was. That didn't make it any easier.


	19. Chapter 19

Testing wasn’t nearly as exciting as Tony thought it would be. Mostly, it comprised of them sitting on opposite sides of the room, Bruce trying not to look at him, and Tony trying not to get hard while he watched. The last task got progressively easier the longer they did this.

If it had been a one time thing, it would have been fine. Except Bruce insisted on a minimum of five trial runs, which was just… It wasn’t nearly as sexy as Tony wanted it to be. And even then, Bruce kept insisting on doing more and more tests on the matter.

“Babe, I think this is overkill,” Tony said, settling in for the twelfth time. The grey walls of Bruce’s makeshift ‘containment unit’ weren’t even remotely appealing. Plus the concrete floors… “If we’re doing this again, couldn’t we do it somewhere with a bed? Or someplace that we would reasonably have sex? Or, you know, let me help this time? You know, for realism?”

Bruce looked over at him, slightly exasperated in spite of the fact that he was the one who was getting off in this arrangement. “Tones, it felt entirely too close to green last time. I don’t feel comfortable bringing that close to you.”

Tony tried not to throw in the fact that he hadn’t changed a bit last time. Same olive skin, same dark brown eyes. Same stature. “Ever consider that it’s because you’re freaking out over what might happen? Self fulfilling prophecy and all that?”

“Of course I’ve considered it. That doesn’t make it any easier to control.” Bruce shook his head, shoving down his pants in a very no-nonsense manner.

Seriously, Tony had expected this to be a lot more fun than it had turned out to be.

“Ok, but can we try it my way? Because you didn’t look a shade different than you usually do. I’m pretty sure you’ve got a lid on it,” Tony said, well aware that he was wheedling at this point. He couldn’t bring himself to care since they were at eleven runs with minimal, if any, excitement.

Bruce sighed, rubbing his temple. “How about we stay here, you can come closer, and minimal touching?” he asked.

He perked up a bit when he wasn't immediately shot down. Ok, bargaining. Tony could do that. “How about we go up to one of our rooms, I come closer, and I don’t touch your dick?” he countered.

Apparently that offer was less than impressive, judging by the incredulous look he got. “We go to one of our rooms, you can come closer, but no touching,” he countered. “If you’re going to take away the safety of this room, I’d prefer you be able to run away if you need to.”

Tony grimaced, crossing his legs in front of him. Better, he supposed. Not quite what he was going for, though. “Bruce, come on. You’re not going to go green, so at least let me play with your hair or something while we’re doing this.”

“You don’t know that. That’s the entire reason we’re doing this Tones; we don’t know whether or not I’m going to…” There was a vague gesture, almost helpless looking.

“And if this was within the first five tests, I’d get your caution. But we’ve done this eleven times, and at this point I think you’re just being needlessly paranoid.” He hesitated, glancing between Bruce’s face and the fact that he was currently holding his pants closed. “We’re not going to progress if we stay on this level. You know that just as well as I do.” Tony frowned a bit, running a hand through his hair. “Your room, which has the reinforcements, we’re both on the bed and I can touch you non-sexually.”

Really, it was pretty much the exact same offer he’d already made. But he could see the hesitation in Bruce’s eyes, so maybe… Maybe he’d get away with it this time.

“I know I’m kind of a danger junkie,” he said softly, trying a slightly different angle. “But _I_ know you have a ridiculous guilt complex, and I don’t want to make that any worse. If I thought this could go wrong, I wouldn’t be pushing you but it doesn’t seem to be going wrong.”

“But it  _ could.  _ Tones, I--”

“Bruce, trust me. You've been keeping us more than safe, but now it's time to move forward.”

It felt like it was entirely too long before Tony got any sort of answer. Or any indication of an answer, for that matter. But he refused to break the silence this time, no matter how uncomfortable it was.

And when he got a shaky, almost convulsive nod, it made all the awkwardness worth it.

* * *

It was a lot more comfortable in Bruce’s bed. True to Tony’s word, his hands stayed firmly to himself as he watched Bruce self-consciously strip. Even simply watching when Bruce folded his clothes neatly at the foot of the bed, back hunched as he slid onto the covers without even touching Tony.

All right, he mostly kept his hands to himself. Tony couldn’t help but to reach out and squeeze Bruce’s bare shoulder, marveling a bit at how completely smooth most of his skin was. So different from his own, and he absently wondered what Bruce’s soulmate must be like. If they were actually less accident prone than Tony was, or if the Hulk just wiped away all evidence of them.

“Still worrying?” he asked softly, feeling distinctly overdressed. Though, he was pretty sure that disrobing would cross the tentative lines they had set at the moment.

Bruce scoffed, even as he set his hand on top of Tony’s. “I’m just getting used to this again. It’s… a lot.”

Tony pushed just a little bit, dropping a chaste kiss to Bruce’s jaw. “You know your limits, and I trust you. Maybe more than you trust yourself.”

He tutted, gently pushing Tony back to grab the condom off the nightstand. “That’s because you’re entirely too sure of me. Let me get situated, ok?”

His hands went up in surrender before Tony slid himself back to lean against Bruce’s headboard. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

There was a chance Tony heard him grumble something about ropes, but he couldn’t quite make it out, and part of him would rather keep the mystery. Tony was pretty sure that whatever he thought he heard was infinitely more interesting than what Bruce actually said.

There was a few minutes of slow breathing before Bruce joined him on the bed, settling in the space between Tony’s thighs. “Remember what we agreed to,” Bruce said, more a warning than anything.

“I can follow rules, you know,” Tony retorted, even as he immediately went to card his hands into Bruce’s hair.

Bruce made a point to turn enough so that Tony could see him roll his eyes, but he didn’t say anything contrary.

In turn, Tony kissed Bruce’s cheek and pulled him back closer. “I’ve got you. Just. Whenever you’re ready and all that.”

“You make it sound like we’re doing something life altering,” Bruce muttered, leaning back and resting his head against Tony’s clothed shoulder.

“It’s called ‘encouraging your loved one’, dear.” After a moment’s thought, he settled his palm over Bruce’s heart. “Besides, you’re putting on a show It’s good form to shower praise on performers.”

His nose wrinkled adorably, though he saw the barest hint of a smile. “I don’t want to think about the normal circumstances that you’d pull those lines out during.”

“Babe--”

Bruce was quick to silence him with a kiss. “Don’t talk. Let me work, all right? If you want to ‘encourage’ me, hold off until there’s something to actually encourage.”

Tony mimed zipping his lips shut, though he was only about half sure that Bruce saw it.

It was either patience or nerves that had several minutes before taking his cock in hand, still soft with barely a hint of interest.

Which Tony was definitely going to chalk up to nerves instead of boredom. For the sake of his pride.

“Ok, you watching was probably a terrible idea,” Bruce admitted after several minutes.

“You've managed just fine before,” he said, tracing circles into the smooth skin behind Bruce's ear. “Just breathe. It's only weird if you make it weird.”

Bruce scoffed, letting go of himself to gently hit Tony’s shoulder. “You're over-familiarity with this sort of thing isn't helping too terribly much, just so you know.”

“So telling you that the whole ‘voyeurism’ thing is vaguely unfamiliar territory  _ would _ be helpful? Because I'm usually on the exhibition side of this.”

That at least earned a soft, curious sound.

Tony almost grinned, looping his legs over Bruce's knees and nudging them open the slightest bit. “How about this. I'll tell you about it when you're officially done with all your testing.”

“You and your constant bargaining,” Bruce complained. Still, he sighed and took himself in hand once more.

“I would offer help but you already vetoed that plan.”

Bruce shoved him back, nestling deeper into the curve of Tony’s body. “Hush. We'll talk about it later.”

Tony sighed, trying to settle himself into this. The fact that he was fully clothed in contrast to Bruce being bare… exposed, honestly, was a little unsettling but he didn't want to drag this out. God knew Bruce would just keep bickering, and Tony  _ would _ like to get more comfortable with this kind of familiarity.

As stilted as the entire journey here felt.

He watched Bruce close his eyes, dark lashes almost brushing his cheeks. And yeah, something twisted in his chest at the sight, and he was definitely not going to use the word ‘infatuation’ to describe it.

Tony stayed patient, idly sliding his fingers through the coarse hair on Bruce’s chest. Tamping down the urge to talk or take things into his own hands.

Finally, he started thumbing circles against the soft skin just below the head of his cock. Taking his time like he always did.

Personally, not the way Tony would do it, but he wasn’t about to judge. Instead, he just propped his chin on Bruce’s shoulder and watched his hands. Maybe paying a little too much attention as his cock started to swell and thicken, considering that he’d been kept too far away to even  _ see _ it much beforehand.

He had to bite his tongue to hold back a quip about the size, because he was trying not to exacerbate Bruce’s nerves. Later, he decided. He’d address it later, after they got settled in because it was definitely something that he would want to stretch him wide open, and he’d really like to tell Bruce that little fact.

It was still kind of weird, though. There was always something clinical about the way Bruce handled himself, as if he wasn’t particularly getting much out of the experience, in spite of the way his body reacted. Another thing Tony had decidedly chalked up to nerves instead of disinterest. It felt like it took longer than it should have before Bruce was even hard enough to slide the condom down his length.

Once it seemed like Bruce was about as comfortable as he was going to get, Tony let his fingers trace lower, along the curve of his ribs and the softness of his waist. Still staying well within his boundaries, as far as he knew. “Can I talk now, or do you want me to keep my mouth shut?” he asked before pressing his lips to Bruce’s shoulder.

His breathing stuttered, and that got his heart to possibly skip a beat. Ok, so not as unaffected as he acted. “Pretty sure the only way I could make you stay quiet is by giving you a gag.”

For a brief second, the image flashed in Tony’s mind. Memories of his mouth being held open with red rubber between his teeth brought a rush of blood down to his cock, only to be dampened by other memories. Memories of dirty rags shoved in there and cutting into the corners of his mouth. Foreign languages he didn’t understand at the time.

“I feel like you’d enjoy that more than I would,” Tony said, shoving back at the thought. “That doesn’t answer the question, though.”

Bruce laughed almost breathlessly, and Tony was pretty sure his hand was sliding a little faster along the shaft now. “If you want. I’m just fine with you being quiet but I understand that can be hard for you if I’m not physically distracting you.”

Whether that was a challenge or not, Tony wasn’t sure. Part of him really just wanted to take Bruce up on it and keep quiet the entire time they were doing. But then…

“You can enjoy quiet not-sex sex with me when I get to be physically distracted,” he decided as he dared to slip his fingers over Bruce’s wrist.

The sharp intake of breath was almost enough to make him wary, but the obvious way Bruce’s hips canted up, as if he was searching for a brush of contact…

“Yeah, that’s beautiful,” he said, more to himself than anything. Tony wouldn’t push his boundaries any further than this. Much as he wanted to just throw the rules out the window and bring Bruce off by his own hands.

God, that was a thought, though. Tony was trying not to imagine the weight of it in his palm, how smooth the skin would be, because he was trying to be respectful and not push too hard or too fast. And if he thought too long about what it would feel like…

Which was really hard not to do, when he could see Bruce’s cock curving up against his stomach. When his knuckles passed close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off of him, and there were few things Tony  _ wouldn’t _ give to have that down his throat.

Tony distracted himself best he could, tracing along the lines of Bruce’s collar and trying not to look, trying not to pay too much mind to the shift and flex of his wrist. Or the way he’d slow down, press back against Tony, and make himself speed right back up as if he found more motivation just in the warmth against his back.

And he really wasn’t sure if it was the additional pressure or the possessive flare that did more for his own growing problem.

In all honesty, he didn’t realize that he’d forgotten to run his mouth until Bruce was tensing up, curling in on himself and shuddering as his orgasm drew closer. Close enough that Tony could hear the harshness of his breathing, the way his strokes became erratic.

“That’s it, honey. Let it go for me,” he said softly.

Bruce huffed, turning to level a dirty look at Tony even though the effect was ruined almost immediately when another sharp tremor ran through his spine and he ended up pressing his forehead against Tony’s neck.

He could feel every exhale hot against his skin, and Tony instinctively pulled him flush to his chest. Ignoring the way the sharp edge of the reactor was surely digging into Bruce’s back. “Stop thinking, sweetheart. I’m right here, so just feel and let me do the worrying for you.”

“What would I even be worrying about?” Bruce asked through gritted teeth. “Just… Fuck, Tones.”

Tony swallowed thickly, swiping his thumb against the delicate skin inside on the inside of Bruce’s wrist, and for whatever reason that seemed to be what set him off.

It rocked through Bruce, condom filling up and Tony would probably do a lot of things to feel the heat of it splashing against his skin, but Bruce just  _ had _ to be paranoid.

All too soon, it was over and Tony was left with a thoroughly spent Bruce in his lap, and jeans that felt almost painfully too tight after the display.

It was so much better this way. And kind of worse in some ways, considering that now he had to deal with the fact that he was hard, and Bruce looked entirely too worn out to help him with that.

“Told you it’d be fine,” he murmured, more than a little smug as he pressed his lips against Bruce’s cheek.

Bruce lifted his head just enough to level a mild glare at Tony, hand reaching back to press against his cock. “I was going to return the favor until you decided to be snarky,” he said, sounding strangely calm considering how out of breath he was.

And, ok, that was also weirdly hot for some reason Tony didn’t want to think too hard about. He didn’t want to analyze why Bruce’s control did something for him.

“Come on, honey… You know I’m fully capable of handling it myself if you don’t want to.” Still, it was hard to keep his hips still with the gentle pressure right over where he wanted it most. It was hard to try and match Bruce’s control.

He hummed softly, removing his touch as he straightened himself up. “If you’re sure, then. You’re free to take care of yourself.”

There was a chill that set in once he didn’t have Bruce’s skin against his chest. Tony was quick to grab Bruce’s wrist, tugging him back. “Or, you know, I could apologize and you could help me out?”

“Tony Stark apologizing? Is the apocalypse upon us?” Bruce deadpanned. Even though he was pretty content to lean back against Tony’s chest. 

“You’re such a dick.” Tony ducked his head to hide in the crook of Bruce’s shoulder, in spite of how awkward a position it was to do that in. “And I’ve seen your dick, so I can’t say all of your dick is in your personality.”

“Why do I feel like you’ve said that to someone before?” Bruce reached back to scratch through the hair at the nape of Tony’s neck. “Don’t answer that, by the way. I don’t want to hear the story right now.”

Tony was just going to take that to mean that he could tell the story later, and if Bruce hadn’t immediately closed that little loophole, well… He wasn’t about to point that out.

He was vaguely aware of Bruce’s other hand moving, fiddling behind himself but it still took him by surprise when his palm pressed hotly against his groin.

Maybe he whined a little thickly, hips jerking instinctively. He would never admit it out loud.

“Well that’s sweet,” Bruce said mildly.

Tony leveled a glare at him, though it was rendered more or less useless when the heel of Bruce’s hand rolled over his still-covered cock.

And maybe Tony got the sinking suspicion that Bruce was going to be even worse of a tease than he’d been already. Which, definitely a good thing, but it was going to be the death of him anyways.

Bruce turned over, settling on his knees before wrapping an arm around Tony’s waist and pulling him into his lap as if Tony didn’t weigh much more than a fucking bag of textbooks. Heedless of the fact that it put Tony a head above him and it highlighted the difference between how clothed each of them were.

It seemed like this was much closer to Bruce’s comfort zone, since he didn’t even seem to hesitate as he pulled Tony closer, fingers slipping beneath the waist of his pants and stroking over the hollow of his hips. “You’re all right with this?” he asked, a hint of concern returning to his tone.

“I’m pretty sure you can actually  _ feel _ how all right I am,” he pointed out, hips jerking up as if he could get Bruce’s hand right where he wanted it. And, god, Tony was pretty fucking sure he was leaking, he wanted it so much.

Bruce huffed a laugh, fingers sliding up through Tony’s hair and insisting he bow his head just enough to press a kiss against his temple. “Just wanted to be sure.”

“You worry too much.” Tony had half a mind to tut at him, but was quickly distracted when the button of his jeans was popped open.

“And you don’t worry enough,” he countered, slowly sliding the zipper down.

Slowly enough that he could hear the teeth opening one by one.

His breathing stuttered, and Tony decided to leave it at that. Bickering could wait until after they were both sated, and didn’t that sound cheesily domestic. Tony slipped his arms around Bruce’s neck on the pretense of keeping himself balanced, and ignored that Bruce was definitely at eye level with the reactor.

There was a hint of a smirk on Bruce’s lips as he inched his pants and underwear down his hips and Tony squirmed impatiently when they got stuck over the top of his thighs. He was overheated, he wanted them  _ off _ , and Bruce was practically holding him in place.

“You’re ok,” Bruce promised, cupping the back of Tony’s neck and guiding him forward. Pressing their foreheads together. “This is enough, right? You can get off just like this,” he insisted as he trailed the backs of his fingers up the length of Tony’s cock.

Tony trembled, arousal jolting through him even at the simple touch. “Why do I feel like you were the bossiest dom in a previous life?” he asked, acting as if the tremor hadn’t snuck into his voice.

The snark was enough to earn a tight squeeze, just under the head of his dick and he jolted forward with a whine, desperate to get even a hint of friction out of it.

“I haven’t the faintest idea where you’d be getting that,” Bruce said casually. As if he wasn’t thumbing over the slit and collecting the moisture that was beading there.

Tony glared at him, nearly going cross-eyed since he refused to put any space between them. Not when he’d finally gotten this close. “You’re just solidifying my belief,” he muttered, voice breaking over a few of the words, but he’d be damned if he let this shut him up.

Bruce hummed noncommittally, pressing their lips together as he set to jacking him off.

And god, he wasn’t pulling any punches. Tony could feel the roughness of Bruce’s dry palm against his skin, and it was enough to drag a bitten-off moan from him that got smothered between their mouths.

It was almost embarrassingly fast before Tony was falling apart at the seams, everything blinding for longer than it should have been before things slid back into focus sharply and he was gasping for breath and clinging to Bruce like he was the only thing that was keeping him on the ground.

“Fuck,” he breathed, faintly aware of the way his hands felt unsteady.

Bruce chuckled, sounding just as blown away by it. “Well, now we know  _ that’s  _ safe,” he quipped, laying kisses on Tony’s cheeks, jaw, temple, everywhere. Gentle, chaste things that felt vastly different from what they had just done, but it was almost better that way.

“I’m going to advocate us doing that more often. Preferably with me being allowed to touch you more, in the future.” Tony nestled against Bruce’s chest, tucking his face in the crook of his shoulder. There was a vaguely boneless feeling, and Tony didn’t realize just how much he missed it until right then. Getting off alone was rarely comparable to doing it with a partner, and Bruce apparently wasn’t as inexperienced as he looked.

Bruce started stroking down his spine, pausing over every vertebrae. The sweetness of the gesture was sharply contrasted with the fact that his cum-slick hand came to rest on the curve of Tony’s hip. “All right, Tones. We can give that a shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, so I actually think we're getting closer to the end here. I'm going to do a rough estimate of this fic rounding out around 30 chapters, which is actually weird to think about and is probably going to make this my longest piece of fiction to date. I'm still on a bi-weekly update schedule, but I'm fairly confident that we'll be returning to weekly once July hits.  
> Thank you for your patience with me, and I hope you guys enjoy (:


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be slightly overcautious about this, so CW for skewed views of asexuality, and perceived sexual abuse. There is no actual abuse, past or present, in this fic, but I thought I'd mention it in case it makes anyone uncomfortable

Tony officially hated VERONICA. He’d always detested the concept, but now that it had gotten past containing Steve and was well on its way to keeping his suits inside… Well. More often than not, he just wanted to destroy what they had and burn the blueprints, digital copies and all.

He’d spent the majority of the day just staring at the exterior, which had been relocated to the top floor since it now took up so much space, and it was getting in the way of everything else Tony was working on.

Normally, he’d be tinkering. Fidgeting. Working on  _ something _ . Except today, he couldn’t bring himself to even  _ look  _ at his damaged suits, knowing they’d been ruined making sure this could hold the Other Guy. And since he wasn’t working on things to try and break out of VERONICA, that meant he was at a standstill.

Almost blessedly, Tony was interrupted by a heavy file hitting the table next to him with a dull ‘thud’.

He caught Bruce wincing at the sound and offered him a sympathetic smile before even looking at the dark brown folder. “Did you bring me something fun to look at?”

“Depends on if you classify redacted military files and medical information ‘fun’,” Bruce said with a wry grin.

Tony bolted upright, grabbing the files to start flipping through the mostly-blacked out file, barely taking the time to actually read what he was seeing. “You got me my Hulk numbers?” he asked, eyes scanning through and trying to figure out what percentage was ‘classified’. A quick look put his estimate somewhere in the 80% range, which led Tony to wonder if he could get his hands on the originals.

Bruce snorted, smoothing a hand over Tony’s shoulder. “You’re way too easy to get excited. It’s the numbers I could get, but it should give you a better idea of what you’re working with.”

“And is that related to the medical stuff, or…” He turned to the other side of the folder, pausing when he saw the obvious difference. Different font, different paper,  _ nothing _ was struck out… He was pretty sure that was even a different ink, on top of all of that. “I’m guessing not,” he said slowly, brow furrowing as he started reading through.

He heard Bruce shuffling, but didn’t pay much mind as he turned to the start of the medical section. He’d probably find more--

“This is yours,” he realized, probably a little belatedly. “This is what you’ve been working on for the last several months.” Tony looked up at him, some weird emotion welling in his chest, and he would be  _ damned _ if a fucking folder made him tear up. Sure, he’d let himself tear down a lot of emotional walls for Bruce, but that would be a little too far.

There was an awkward beat before Bruce offered a wry smile, even as he started to shy away. “I believe I was promised exhibitionist stories when I finished this.”

Tony blinked, before the memory came back. That had been almost a week ago, and Bruce hadn’t even seemed to keen to hear anything like that, but… Mentally, Tony took stock. There were more than enough stories he  _ could _ share… Except he was still remembering how Bruce had seemed almost intimidated by the fact that Tony had done just about everything.

He closed the folder, setting it down gently as he tried to tamp down the uncomfortable swell of emotions. This was big, really. He wouldn’t be entirely sure  _ how _ big until he finished reading through, but… “Thank you.” Tony hesitated a moment before reaching across the space to wrap his fingers around Bruce’s wrist.

And yeah, he was more than a little pleased when Bruce came closer with only the slightest tug. Even more so when Bruce let himself be maneuvered to stand nearly chest to chest with Tony so he could bend down the slightest bit to kiss him.

A lot of Bruce’s calm front seemed to crumble within moments, and it wasn’t long before he had one hand grasping Tony’s hip and the other locked in his hair.

Their lips slid together, slick heat between them as Tony found himself stumbling back against his workbench. While he was acutely aware of the cold, harsh edge against the small of his back, the discomfort was pushed far from his mind as he pulled Bruce closer, feeling the warmth of him even with all the layers of clothing between them.

Teeth grazed against the sensitive skin of his lips, and Tony moaned though the sound was muffled against Bruce’s mouth which just encouraged him to push more until Tony had to hold onto Bruce just to keep himself upright.

“Maybe we should take this somewhere else,” Bruce said, easing back just enough to let Tony breathe.

At the moment, though, breathing seemed like a very overrated activity. “Thought you wanted exhibitionist stories,” Tony teased, dragging a hand down Bruce’s chest and stopping at the waist of his horribly oversized pants.

Only now he noticed that they felt as cheap as they looked. Definitely not something Tony bought him and he couldn’t help but grimace a bit at the slick polyester.

“What, do you keep condoms down here or something?” Bruce scoffed before ducking down to scrape his teeth along the line of Tony’s jaw, and his train of thought was almost completely derailed.

Blindly, Tony grasped around the desk, opening the drawer with a little more force than necessary before groping around inside. Finally, he felt the foil texture he needed and slid it between his index and middle fingers so that he could flash the packet. “Knew it was only a matter of time before this got put on the ‘acceptable touching’ list.”

Bruce leaned back enough so that Tony couldn’t feel the heat of his breath against his skin, though the loss as almost made up for by the incredulous look in Bruce’s eyes as they flitted between Tony’s face and the condom multiple times. “I don’t even know why I’m surprised. By all accounts, I should have expected this.”

Tony laughed, high and a little compulsive. “We don’t have to, though? I mean, if you don’t want to do it up here that’s fine, even though no one else actually comes up to this floor so I wouldn’t be worried about being walked in on. Unless you’re into that, but I’m pretty sure you’re not.”

Fingertips were pressed against his lips, and Tony instinctively shut up. They were quickly replaced with a kiss, gentler than the heated ones they’d traded not even minutes before and Tony found himself calming down under the soft pressure.

“New rule,” Bruce said between kisses. “No sex in the lab.”

His nose wrinkled, a little displeased, but he could work with that. It wasn’t like it  _ actually _ surprised him. “So, if we weren’t in the lab, this could conceivably end in me sucking you off?”

He seemed to think about it, absently smoothing his thumb against the hinge of Tony’s jaw. “I’d rather suck you off, to be honest. If that’s where this is going.”

Tony’s mind short-circuited as images flashed through his mind. Bruce, who seemed to take control so easily letting Tony has some semblance of power. “We could always do both. It would be much more efficient that way.”

Bruce snorted, kissing the corner of Tony’s mouth. “Or you could relax for once in your life and let me get you off. I’d like it better if you let me do all the work.”

Ok, so Tony was trying not to be weird about it. It wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d been told, when it came to sex. It was a little off putting at worst, he told himself. “Is this an ‘Other Guy’ thing? Because there’s currently an entire file on my desk detailing how safe that is.”

With a sigh, Bruce took a step back, hand slipping down to cup the side of Tony’s neck. “It’s an ‘I’m not the biggest fan of being on the receiving end’ thing. I know it’s safe. I’m just wired to have a preference.”

Absently, Tony wondered if that had anything to do with the heavily blocked-off past that even Tony had trouble looking into. But his primary focus was on grasping Bruce’s belt loops and tugging him back. “I mean, if you’re sure, I sure as hell won’t say no to that.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, grabbing Tony’s wrists and sliding his hands up the slightest bit so they pressed against his waist. “Then I guess you should get us out of the lab, shouldn’t you?”

The speed with which Tony practically dragged Bruce to the elevator made him laugh, and Tony was quick to shut him up with a kiss as they were sent down to Tony’s floor.

Only after the elevator doors closed did he realized that he didn’t bring the condom down with him, which meant he’d just have to find another one in his room.

Bruce didn’t seem to have enough safety-related qualms to immediately start looking for one, though. The second they were in Tony’s room, he was nearly pushed back against the bed, and a sharp thrill ran through him as his back hit the mattress.

“You’re bossier than I thought you’d be,” Tony commented.

Bruce made a point to shoot him a deadpan look before sinking to his knees and unfastening Tony’s pants with a sort of fierce determination. “You’re more pliant than I thought you’d be, so it might be me feeding off your compliance.”

“I’m the one following your lead,” Tony argued, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at Bruce. And fuck, honestly he looked so… almost smug, really. As if he knew exactly how well he had Tony wrapped around his finger.

Actually, he was probably  _ very  _ well aware of that fact.

Bruce hummed, shrugging a bit as he peeled down Tony’s jeans and boxer briefs in one motion, not bothering to pull them down past Tony’s knees which was…. Yeah, ok, close enough to being restrained that his cock visibly twitched with interest, but far enough from it that his mind didn’t instantly conjure up memories from the cave.

“You say that, but you seem to be pretty on board with letting me take the reins.” Bruce fit his hands around Tony’s hips, dragging him closer to the edge of the bed before mouthing at the base of his cock.

The heat and dampness of Bruce’s lips instantly made Tony’s head fall back, exhaling sharply. He was usually quicker to give than receive, and it had been  _ entirely _ too long since he’d been in this position. “That… You seem pretty insistent on it, and you know how quick I am to give you what you want,” he defended.

Bruce didn’t dignify that with a verbal response, simply quirking a brow before dragging his tongue up the shaft of Tony’s rapidly-hardening cock.

And, ok, if Bruce wasn’t going to insist on protection, Tony sure as hell wasn’t going to bring it up. After all this time, he figured Bruce would mention it if he thought they needed one.

Any and all thoughts along that line were quickly derailed when the heat of Bruce’s lips sealed over the head of his dick, hand wrapping around the base to hold it steady.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, twisting his fingers in the blankets as he tried to spread his legs wider for Bruce to fit a little better there. The fact that he couldn’t actually do that really just sent more blood rushing down to pool heavily in his gut.

Bruce didn’t seem to want to waste any time, throat opening easily as he bobbed his head lower and lower until Tony was pretty sure he was hitting the back of his throat every time.

Which really debunked any vague thoughts that he had that insisted Bruce was a lot less experienced than he was. Out of practice, sure. Inexperienced?

Tony fell back against the bed, grasping at Bruce’s hand as well as blindly reaching to fist a hand in his mess of curls. “God, you’re so good,” he mumbled, making a conscious effort  _ not _ to drive his hips up and push himself deeper into Bruce’s mouth.

He felt more than heard the affirmative sound that Bruce made, the vibrations jolting a high whine that felt thick in his throat.

Bruce drew soothing circles against the hollow of Tony’s hip as his tongue pressed against the slit, and really? He quit trying to think or quantify anything after that.

Everything felt a little liquid as the waves of heat coursed through him, savoring the drag of Bruce’s lips over the sensitive skin, the tendons of his wrist under Tony’s fingers, and the brief moments when his cock was completely sheathed by Bruce, lips meeting his steadying hand.

Time  _ also _ felt a little liquid as he spiraled higher and higher, feeling taut with the tension, but he was pretty sure that, at this point, Bruce had been on his knees long enough that both they, and his jaw, were starting to get a bit sore.

“Bruce,” he rasped, tugging insistently on his hand. Trying to get him to come on the bed, or… fuck, whatever. Whatever would get them closer.

Apparently, that got misinterpreted. Sure, he got a little closer, but Bruce just dragged his palm up Tony’s chest, fabric wrinkling under his hand until it rested just on top of the reactor. All while keeping his head down, seeming content to suck Tony’s dick.

His eyes squeezed shut, body arching. The light weight on his chest, where he usually liked it the least was almost reassuring because it was  _ Bruce _ . The man who was so methodical, so sure of himself and his hands. And he was beyond careful in everything he did, and maybe he was slightly freaking out since no one had really touched it since Obie, and  _ that _ was the last train of thought he wanted to go down right now.

Only once Bruce’s hand slid down to rest over his ribs did Tony realize he’d tensed up. He squeezed his wrist in thanks, not trusting his voice right then. He let himself breathe easier, focusing back on the wetness of Bruce’s mouth and the grounding pressure on his ribs.

The edge was still a little closer than he thought it should be, in spite of the slight moment that could have ruined the whole thing. When it finally  _ did _ hit, Tony felt blindsided. The hot burn of it seared through him and he was pretty damn sure he forgot to breathe, a choked off moan getting stuck in his throat as his body tensed up.

Just as suddenly, he was boneless, breath sounded ragged to his own ears. Tony stared blankly at the ceiling, belatedly realizing that his nails were digging into Bruce’s wrist and immediately let go.

A soft, inquisitive sound vibrated around his softening dick, and Tony couldn’t quite bring himself to look down at Bruce just yet. The suction didn’t ease up immediately, and it wasn’t long before it started to touch on oversensitivity. Tony could hear a small, almost pitiful sound that he refused came from his mouth, and Bruce pulled off in short order.

“You’re all right,” Bruce soothed, as hoarse as his voice had become. The bed dipped as he climbed up, pulling Tony against his chest.

The contact, the intimacy of it was enough to instantly settle him. Tony nuzzled back, head tilting to capture Bruce’s lips. It was lazy, tongue dipping in to try and taste himself in Bruce’s mouth and he seemed more than content to indulge in the request.

“Sure you don’t want me to return the favor?” he asked when he broke away, scanning Bruce’s face. He looked… calm, really. Not really riled up, and Tony was pretty sure he couldn’t feel any hardness against his back. Worry trickled through him, permeating the sated satisfaction that had settled over his mind.

Bruce shook his head, pushing Tony’s hair off his forehead. “I’m all right, babe. I promise, giving you that was more than enough for me.”

Somehow, that didn’t really do much to assuage his nerves over it. He got that some people didn’t like sex. That was fine with him. He could manage to work around that kind of thing in a relationship if he really wanted to. And he  _ would _ work around it for Bruce, if that was what he wanted. “You don’t have to take me to bed if it’s not your thing, you know. I mean, I definitely wouldn’t say no if you  _ did _ want to, but. If it’s not something you’re into, that’s ok with me.”

Bruce hummed, pressing his forehead to Tony’s shoulder and relaxing there. “It’s hard to explain, Tones. I like it, honestly. But I don’t like it the same way everyone else seems to. I mean, it’s good. It feels  _ good _ . And I have every intention of fucking you until you’re a boneless mess on the bed, but I’m not the biggest fan of people touching me like that.”

Again, Tony couldn’t help but wonder if there was something in Bruce’s past. But then, he also remembered getting asked that same question when he first told Rhodey he was bisexual, and he didn’t want to take Bruce down that road if it wasn’t the case.

Instead, he settled for stroking his thumb along Bruce’s wrist, and tried not to feel guilty over not giving something in return. “I’m going to hold you to the ‘fuck me until I’m a boneless mess’ thing, just so you know.”

He could feel Bruce shaking with silent laughter, and Tony decided to just leave it at that. Anything that needed to be worried about could be handled another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guess who has a final chapter count! Also, we're back to weekly updates, and depending on how fast I bang out the last couple chapters, I might move to twice-weekly for the absolute final stretch.  
> Thanks to everyone for sticking with me this far; you're all the best and I adore you all.


	21. Chapter 21

Things seemed to go relatively smooth from there out. Their missteps grew farther apart as they learned how to better mind each other’s lines, and how to just  _ exist  _ together in this capacity. Missions grew more and more frequent, while Steve came over less and less.

Bruce’s floor was almost completely abandoned at this point, which Tony had definitely made a big deal over when he realized it, because it was sort of like moving in together. Except they already lived together. Bruce told him he was ridiculous, but the warm smile didn’t fade for a second.

They both watched as SHIELD fell, and Tony didn’t think for one goddamn second that it was actually over. That they were going to stop getting sent on missions, or that people were going to stop turning up to try and rule the world.

And, of course, Pepper let him know the second that she hired Agent Maria Hill, so that didn’t do much to challenge his belief.

They moved on anyways. As their weird family grew bigger to include Maria, Sam, and Rhodey who actually agreed to stay over from time to time, Tony resigned himself to the fact that he was possibly going to have to spend more time modifying rooms than reworking his suit, or even finalizing VERONICA, who could now actually stand up to Thor, Steve,  _ and _ Tony’s suits all at once, which theoretically meant that it was more than enough to withstand the Other Guy, according to what he could glean from Bruce’s files.

Though the best thing, in Tony’s opinion, was that the longer they spent together the more Bruce’s reservations got thrown out the proverbial window.

“I expected you to be a lot mouthier than you turned out to be,” Bruce commented, sounding almost smug.

Tony could feel his legs trembling, vaguely reminded of the off-balance way he used to feel when he first started flying. Still, he managed to pick up his head enough to level a sharp look at Bruce, biting back a moan when that changed the angle in the best possible way. “And I expected you to be some sort of blushing, doe-eyed virgin so it looks like we’re both disappointed,” he snarked right back, though he struggled to keep the words even. Hell, he couldn’t even ignore the way his voice hitched here and there, but like hell was he going to let that stop him. Not yet.

“You and I both know how thrilled you were with that turn of events.” Almost as if in retaliation, Bruce pushed Tony’s thighs further apart and shoving the last half inch or so of his dick inside.

He couldn’t help but groan, hands scrabbling at the sheets as he tried to get accustomed to that extra stretch. It fit; Tony was intimately aware that it would, but that didn’t make it any less overwhelming when Bruce decided to give Tony every bit of it. It was a lot, in the best way. Hot, hard, stretching him almost to his limits… He was more than happy to take it however Bruce would give it to him.

“You’re too tense,” Bruce murmured, palms smoothing over Tony’s hips.

His back arched, unsure if he wanted to push into it or pull back. “And  _ you’re _ too calm. We’ve been over this,” Tony fired back, trying to get more comfortable. It didn’t really matter that ‘going over it’ had ended in Tony hiding face down in the pillows as he begrudgingly admitted that he was honestly kind of a fan of that how blase Bruce treated it. Treated _him_.

As if to counter that, Bruce rolled his hips, brushing against Tony’s sweet spot as if he had memorized exactly where it was.

Maybe, he thought wildly as he clutched at the sheets, he  _ did _ have it memorized.

Tony forced himself to let go of the bedding, grasping instead for Bruce’s shoulders to pull him closer, to feel the warmth radiating off of him. “Ok, ok, point taken,” he nearly babbled, nails digging into the smooth skin.

Bruce huffed a laugh before leaning down, lips against the scarring on Tony’s chest. Closer to the arc reactor than Tony would have been comfortable with not even a month ago, and Tony couldn’t help but preen a little bit over how far he’d come.

It was hard to focus on anything more than holding on for the ride, feeling the stretch of Bruce’s cock and the way it slid in and out of his body. The teeth against his chest, the smack of Bruce’s hips against his ass, the way he could almost feel it in his throat, and Tony didn’t even think before lacing his hands and Bruce’s hair, holding him in place in every way he possibly could.

“You like that I’m more experienced than you thought,” Bruce murmured, sucking marks into the delicate skin across Tony’s sternum. Tony had learned the hard way that, apparently, he didn’t get distracted very easily, even while fucking. “That I’m actually capable of ruining you, and finding exactly what makes you tick.”

His blood burned under his skin, definitely tinging it red as he tried to think up a quick retort, though he quickly realized that even if he  _ did _ think of something, getting it out in one smooth sentence would be a lost cause.

Instead, he settled for clenching down around the length inside him, choking back a moan at how much  _ bigger _ he felt but at least it derailed Bruce’s talk and encouraged him to fuck into Tony harder, to the point where Tony could actually hear when he bottomed out.

His nails returned to dig into Bruce’s back, sure to leave at least temporary marks as arousal continued to spark through him, bright flashes lighting along his nerves.

Supposedly, Tony knew that he was capable of getting off untouched. He’d had it shocked out of him with all manner of toys, and on rare occasion with the real deal. Bruce never seemed to want to test to see if he could, however, considering that once he actually got Tony to the point of incoherency, he was pretty damn quick to wrap a hand around Tony’s cock and get him the rest of the way there.

“Babe,” he managed to get out, pushing himself back into Bruce’s thrusts and burying his face in his shoulder. 

Bruce’s fingers curled in the hair at the back of Tony’s neck, tugging just hard enough that he couldn’t hide. And god, Tony couldn’t even bring himself to  _ want _ to fight him on that. “You can take it,” he promised lowly. “Just hold on a little longer for me; I’ll get you what you need.”

Tony choked back a moan, letting Bruce expose his throat. That  _ really _ wasn’t helping. The need to cum was bubbling in his veins, and it was getting harder to ignore, and he  _ knew _ Bruce would drag it out for another hour if he wanted to. All Tony could really do was squeeze his eyes shut, hold on tight, and more or less let Bruce do with him what he wanted.

His ankles locked over the small of Bruce’s back, urging him deeper even as it made him cry out when every stroke inevitably nudged right against his prostate. Holding on, even though Bruce asked, started to feel like an impossibility as he started to get closer to overstimulation, which was a whole different hell.

“Bruce,” he rasped, eyes struggling to lock onto his partner’s. Everything was too much; it almost felt like he was burning alive.

Blessedly, he decided to put Tony out of his ‘misery’, so to speak. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, damp lips against Tony’s collar. The rough calluses on his palm caught against the sensitive skin, stroking him in tandem with his thrusts.

It all flared through him, jolting Tony sharply as he spilled over Bruce’s hand in less than a minute. And god, it felt like it could go on forever as Tony gave it up, clenching down and desperate to keep Bruce inside him as the pleasure overwhelmed him.

Bruce didn’t stop, fucking him through it, past it. Pathetic little sounds continued to fall from Tony’s lips as he got almost too close to the line into oversensitivity, trying to hold on even as his limbs started to give out on him.

“So fucking sweet,” Bruce said, smirk audible in his voice before his teeth bit into Tony’s shoulder. His pace was erratic, jarring, and before Tony could find the words to say it was too much, Bruce locked up, shoving Tony’s hips down to hold him still as he filled the condom.

They stayed just like that for longer than usual, both trying to calm their breathing as Bruce slowly slumped on top of him.

Still, it felt entirely too soon when Bruce picked himself up, kissing Tony’s temple before pulling out to clean them both up.

There was no way in hell Tony was moving the rest of the night. He could feel the soreness in his hips where Bruce had physically held his legs wide open, as well as the pulsing of bruises along his chest and throat. Granted, it was all overshadowed by the bright glowy feeling in his chest, so maybe he’d be more grumpy about it in the morning.

“Sorry,” Bruce said, crawling back onto the bed and smoothing Tony’s hair back. “Didn’t mean to go so hard on you.”

Tony glared at him, though it felt a little hazy. “We’ve been over this, babe. I seriously don’t mind if you rough me up a little.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, running the damp cloth over Tony’s skin to clean up the mess. Which was ridiculously sweet, honestly. “I know you don’t mind. It’s just jarring for me, afterwards, to see you like this.”

While he was pretty damn sure he was referencing the hickeys, Tony pointedly glanced down at himself before looking incredulously at his partner. Fine, ok, he was more comfortable with injuries than Bruce was. That became obvious very early on, but at least Bruce stopped actively freaking out when he left Tony in slightly worse condition when he was done.

Eventually, he sighed, looping his arms around Bruce’s neck and tugging him back onto him. “I know you were worried about being a danger to me. But we’re getting somewhere with that, right? You don’t seem to be stressing about it as much, though we might need to work on how much you apologize.”

“That would be like me suggesting that we work on you actually remembering to eat on your own,” Bruce said, a wry smile on his lips as he pulled Tony against his chest. “Know a lost cause when you see one, dear.”

Tony scoffed, worming his way back so that he was a proper little spoon. “Nothing with you will ever be a lost cause.”

He felt the damp kiss against the back of his neck and the tightening of the arm around his waist. “You’re the biggest sap,” Bruce said fondly, and Tony was hyper aware of how his lips moved against his skin.

Part of him wanted to grimace, but he was decidedly too tired to waste the effort, since it wasn’t like Bruce could even  _ see _ it. “No one will ever believe you if you tell them,” he muttered, even as he pressed back against him.

“You say that like I was going to brag about it. I was planning on keeping this part of you all to myself from now on.”

Tony preened a little bit before he could even think twice about it. His eyes drifted shut as he felt Bruce’s callused palm drag up to cover the reactor. “You and your possessive displays of affection.”

He grinned widely, feeling Bruce’s retort in the gentle press of teeth against his neck.

* * *

Thor seemed to think he knew where Loki’s scepter was. Tony would be a lot more apt to believe him, if this hadn’t been the seventh time he’d landed on the roof, shorted the power and proclaimed that he had a lead of some kind.

“We might need the big guy on this,” Steve said grimly, glancing at Tony as if he was Bruce’s keeper.

He’d be a lot more indignant of that if Bruce had actually been in the room to hear this, though that didn’t stop Tony from bristling. Steve in general had been getting on his nerves more and more, in spite of the fact that he had been around less and less.

“J, pass that along?” he asked, never letting his eyes leave Steve’s. And at least he had the sense to look a little mortified.

“Doctor Banner will agree to come along, but only if he is kept on standby until it becomes necessary for him to intervene,” JARVIS replied promptly. Almost as if Bruce had set up an automatic response for this, which was a very real possibility, he supposed.

Seemingly satisfied, Steve nodded curtly before returning to the map he had gotten set up. “JARVIS, would you mind relaying the rest of this to Doctor Banner as well? On his own time, I don’t want to disturb him if he’s working.”

“Of course, Captain.”

It got on his nerves. Tony couldn’t pinpoint  _ why _ it got on his nerves, but it felt like Steve was back to walking on eggshells around Bruce, and Tony had been up for almost 27 hours at this point, and the last thing he needed to deal with was another mission that supposedly wasn’t related to SHIELD but was probably related to SHIELD even though Thor was the one who had come in with it.

Tony managed to keep his mouth shut, even though he was seething throughout the entirety of the planning.

* * *

The mission was a failure in the sense that the scepter actually hadn’t even been there. Sure, there was a HYDRA base, and Tony had the sinking suspicion  _ that _ was why Steve had been so adamant about them leaving as quickly as possible, but it wasn’t the  _ right _ HYDRA base. For either their mission or Steve’s wild goose chase.

The Other Guy  _ did _ turn out to be necessary, and Tony had the rare opportunity to actually see him in action, instead of focusing solely on fighting people.

HYDRA may be well trained, but compared to the aliens falling from the sky? They were pretty insignificant.

But then, there was the issue of getting Bruce back. It had taken a half hour to actually get Hulk to stop breaking everything in sight, but he never actually made a move to attack anyone on the team.

He  _ did _ make a point of pushing Tony away from some perceived danger, saying something about how ‘tiny tin man needs to be safe’, and he was going to be damn sure to tease Bruce about it later.

For now, though, he was content to just card through Bruce’s hair as they flew back home, trying not to say anything about how badly he was shaking. Bruce was probably acutely aware of that fact as it was.

The mood in the quinjet was low, though Tony was honestly grateful no one had been seriously hurt. There were some scrapes, and Natasha had gotten grazed by a bullet, but… That looked to be the worst of it. There was an overwhelming crush of… well, not necessarily defeat, but it still kind of felt like it. Either way, it was heavy in the small space, and Tony could feel his earlier snappishness rising.

Of course it would be Steve who set it off first. Commenting something about how the suit seemed to be a little better than the last one he’d seen.

In the back of his mind, Tony recognized that it was a compliment. That Steve was trying to make small talk to fill the silence, and was trying to appease Tony in the same breath.

That didn’t stop him from taking offense to how it only seemed ‘a little’ better, when he’d put hours, and literal blood and sweat into the upgrade, and made a point to let Steve know he would have made it better, had he not had to devote so much time to making a stealth suit for Steve.

It had shut him up pretty quick, and no one else had tried to talk to Tony the rest of the trip. Though, he did get a reproachful look from Bruce, who gently squeezed his calf but remained wordless.

They had all reached the point where they’d done enough missions that there was a routine to fall into. Natasha and Clint would hole themselves up in one of their rooms to patch each other up and order pizza. Steve would get dropped off in DC so he could take his motorcycle home. Thor would usually leave, either to find Jane or to go back to Asgard. No one was ever entirely certain, and no one remembered to ask until he was already gone.

Tony and Bruce generally hid away in Tony’s room to clean up and regroup. If the Other Guy was necessary… Tony didn’t really mind that he would inevitably do most of the work.

Tony didn’t feel too strange about undressing Bruce or leading him to the shower without actually exchanging words. They had done this kind of thing often enough that he recognized when Bruce needed him to stop, to slow down.

But Bruce never tensed up or shied away. Not while Tony pulled the oversized sweater over his head, or when he turned the water on hot enough that the glass walls steamed up within minutes.

It was only after Tony started to wash the grime off of Bruce’s skin that he spoke.

“You need to go easier on Steve,” he murmured, voice rougher than usual even as his eyes stayed on the tiled floor.

Tony sighed, head bowing. Really? They were going to talk about this while Bruce was too weak to even stand on his own? “I’m not harder on him than I am on anyone else,” he said diplomatically, continuing to drag a washcloth over Bruce’s chest.

Bruce’s lips were pressed into a firm line as he reached out with an unsteady hand and flipped the water off. “Maybe that’s how it looks to everyone else, but I know you better than that. You were so quick to bite his head off, and I know that you’re tired so maybe it wasn’t  _ just _ him, but how is he supposed to know that?”

Tony huffed, leveling a glare at Bruce, who was more than happy to return it. That wasn’t… 

Ultimately, Tony looked away first, turning the water back on to ward off the chill that was starting to settle on his damp skin.

“He doesn’t even live here, Tones. Just… Be nicer when he  _ does _ come around. That’s all I’m asking.” Slowly, he reached up to rest his palm over the reactor’s edge. Over the worst of the scarring that he’d hid away for so long. “It’s not his fault, you know. He lost a lot as well.”

He swallowed thickly, rinsing the soap off of Bruce’s skin, not bothering to even ask what Bruce was implying. Tony knew he was right. Of course he knew that. And normally he was so much better at keeping a lid on everything, but this week he was just…

“Hey,” Bruce said gently, derailing Tony’s train of thought. “I love you, ok?”

“You’re just trying to placate me,” Tony muttered, though he couldn’t help a small smile tugging at his lips as he smoothed the last of the suds off of Bruce’s hip.

Bruce leaned up, kissing Tony’s cheek. “But it’s working, so you can’t really complain about it.”

Tony scoffed, pressing their lips together for a brief moment. “I love you too, dearest.”

* * *

“We need to figure out how to better contain him.”

Tony sighed, dropping his head to the cold surface of his work table. He was about 97% sure that she was talking about the Other Guy. And while she and Bruce were mostly getting along these days… “I’m literally building something for that, Natasha. It’s almost ready to go into orbit and everything.”

She hoisted herself up on the counter next to him, stealing a couple strawberries from the container Bruce had brought him earlier. “While I’m sure that will be perfectly efficient, I was thinking something a little more… intermediary. Maybe having a few steps between waiting it out and sending a satellite-slash-Hulk cage down from the sky.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds overdramatic.” Granted, Tony thought it  _ was _ overdramatic, but that wasn’t the point. “Do you have a better idea or are you just bringing it to my attention?”

Hesitation clearly flickered over her face, and Tony’s guard instantly went up. He’d learned that Natasha’s bravado was stronger than even his own, and if she was down here on serious business that had her thinking twice…

“Where I was first trained, there were certain… practices,” she said delicately, glancing around the room. “I think one or two of them can be modified to better fit our situation.”

Tony swallowed thickly, knowing that in spite of his squeamishness, Bruce would probably appreciate another layer of security. Even though there had been no recent proof that they even  _ needed _ it, since the one occasion where they did need Hulk, everything went smoothly.

Well. As smooth as anything ever was with them. No one had been seriously hurt, and he didn’t think a significant portion of the property damage could be solely attributed to him.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, returning to his work as if he could distract himself that easily. As if it didn’t even weigh on him.


	22. Chapter 22

If Tony thought he hated VERONICA, it didn’t hold a candle to how much he hated the Lullaby concept. Out of everyone on the team, Natasha was the person Bruce, and by extension the Other Guy, interacted with the least. Well. Her and Thor, but Thor wasn’t around regularly enough to really count as an alternative. But, even Tony had to admit, Natasha was probably best suited to at least laying the groundwork of this project, since she was the only one who actually had experienced it.

An argument could be made that Clint had also experienced something similar, but Bruce had immediately shut down the idea of anyone repeatedly hitting the Other Guy over the head to see if that worked.

The makeshift containment floor had gotten better, at least. It looked less haphazard, though it now required pretty routine fixing up since it was being used regularly, simply so they could teach him to let Bruce back out.

Natasha, for the most part, stayed in a separate containment cell that was inside the actual room, which was a weird build but Bruce deemed it necessary. Tony was decidedly  _ not  _ allowed anywhere near the room, but that didn’t stop him from watching the video feed from his lab.

“Sir, you aren’t helping yourself by doing this,” JARVIS reminded him, surely picking up the way Tony flinched away when the Other Guy’s fists came a bit too close to Nat’s cage. “Doctor Banner would be appalled if he knew.”

“Then it’s a good thing you agreed not to tell him, huh J?” he said, expanding the screen so he could get a better look.

There was a marked pause, and Tony was damn sure J would be sighing at him if he knew how. “I cannot go against your wishes, sir. But I still think it would be prudent to simply trust Mr. Barton to keep an eye on her and Doctor Banner.”

Tony wrinkled his nose, eternally frustrated that  _ Clint _ was allowed to be that close, but he wasn’t. He had someone at stake in there as well. Maybe not like he did, but… God knew it would absolutely destroy Bruce if he accidentally hurt her. Because while Tony was absolutely sure neither Bruce nor his alter ego posed a threat to  _ him _ … Well. The Other Guy definitely didn’t seem to like Natasha too much at the moment.

“You fret too much,” Tony muttered, eyes still glued to the display. Just in case.

It felt like hours before Natasha finally got Bruce to calm down, and the second Tony saw him start to come back down to size, he shut down the displays and ran. They could keep him out of the ‘training’ itself, but like hell was anyone going to keep him back when Bruce came back to himself. Never mind that he felt shaken by the experience; he was pretty damn sure that the people who had actually been in the room were faring far worse.

Tony had to swallow the hurt when he saw Natasha wrapped up securely in Clint’s arms while Bruce was more or less curled up in a corner, pulling his sweater tight around him like--

God, it almost looked like a straightjacket and that really freaked him out.

He tried not to shoot Clint a dirty look, mentally reminding himself that it wasn’t his fault, as hs almost stormed into the room. Though, Tony got the sense that any intimidating effect he had was ruined by the small-ish pile of soft blankets he’d brought down with him.

“Hey, big guy,” he said, faking any semblance of a good mood that he could. He was quick to kneel in front of Bruce and drape one of the more plush blankets over his shoulders.

Bruce was quick to twist his hands into the dark blue material, offering Tony a shaky smile which really only drove the sharp pain deeper into his heart at the sight. “Thanks,” he said, voice hoarse. As if the strain of the Other Guy’s voice had hurt his vocal cords.

This whole thing was a terrible idea, in Tony’s opinion. Never mind the cage; forcing Bruce to turn this regularly just to try and calm him down? It was going to run Bruce ragged, and that was the last thing Tony wanted to see happen.

But he bit his tongue, knowing he was probably the only one in the now-dented room that thought as much. Instead, Tony pushed a few errant curls off of Bruce’s forehead, pressing his lips there for a brief moment. “Feeling all right? You guys have been down here for a while; I could order in real quick.” He glanced back at Natasha and Clint to see what they thought, only to notice that Clint seemed to be the one who was being comforted. Which shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was.

“Now who’s worrying too much?” Bruce teased, instantly snapping Tony’s attention back to him. He didn’t try to uncurl from himself, but he looked at least a little more settled. “Five blankets, Tones? That’s a little overkill, even for you.”

He glanced down, actually taking counting how many he carried down with him, sure he’d only brought… Ok, so he  _ had _ brought five. That was actually a bit much. “In my defense, I wasn’t really paying attention. I thought I had two or three larger blankets.”

“They’re all different colors.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Mr. ‘I’m going to lug this entire lab-worthy first aid kit around to tend to five bruises and some scrapes’,” Tony retorted, even as he shifted so he could gather Bruce up in his arms. At least the tremors wracking through him were fine and didn’t seem to be affecting Bruce too badly.

That earned him a short laugh as Bruce pressed his forehead against Tony’s shoulder. “That was one time, and you seemed more than happy to let me.”

Tony rolled his eyes fondly, stroking down his back. “You don’t seem to be complaining either,” he pointed out.

* * *

Tony  _ was _ trying harder with Steve. And a long lecture from Sam shed enough light on things that he had to start planning on renovating Steve’s still-unused room. Again. It was bad enough it had sat around unused, but the fact that Tony couldn’t let it be, even though Steve continually turned down his offers to move in.

Of everyone else on the team, Tony had been pretty sure that ‘rent free’ would appeal to Steve the most, and yet he was the only one not staying with them.

Walls had come up and then back down between Steve’s visits. Small alcoves were set up, and Tony didn’t even want to tell Bruce just how much research he’d put into what made a good art space.

He got the sense Bruce knew anyways.

“He thought you were my soulmate,” Tony muttered, still buried face-down in the pillows. He’d let Bruce clean him up, but after that all Tony wanted to do was find a comfortable sprawl and stay there.

“Were you thinking about someone else the entire time I was fucking you?” Bruce asked, amusement clear in his voice.

Tony groaned, picking himself up enough to shoot Bruce a glare, ignoring the soreness in his lower back. “Why are you such an asshole? I can barely think about anything when you’re fucking me and you damn well know that.”

Bruce leaned over, kissing one of the bite marks on Tony’s shoulder as an apology. “Maybe I just like hearing you say it. So who thought we were marked?”

Tony scoffed. That particular slang for it had gone out at least twenty years ago, but somehow he couldn’t even start to be surprised that Bruce used it. “Rogers. And he had the nerve to accuse me of manipulating you into staying.”

“Well, you certainly tried to. The whole ‘showing up in my room shirtless’ thing was tantamount blackmail.”

Tony reached over to gently shove Bruce, heedless of his laughter. “I hate you so much,” he muttered, even though he knew he couldn’t hide a stupidly sappy grin from pulling at his lips.

“Pretty sure you don’t.” Bruce splayed his palm over Tony's back, drawing nonsensical patterns against his skin. “So. What brought that up?”

He shrugged a bit, letting himself lay back down. “I don’t know. I’m almost wondering why he’d think that, since I’m pretty sure he’s seen that you don’t have a big mess of scars on your chest.”

Bruce hummed contentedly, keeping himself propped up on his elbow so he could continue to trace his fingers over Tony’s bare skin. “In his defense, I don’t think he knows that you have a mess of scars, and he hasn’t really seen me without a shirt on anyways, outside of the Other Guy. I can see why he’d think that.”

Tony wrinkled his nose. Sure, he was probably biased, and maybe both Bruce and Steve were stuck in that golden glow of ‘soulmates are perfectly matched every time’, but he didn’t see why Steve would instantly come to that conclusion. “What, because we’re happy together? That’s not necessarily linked to being matched.”

“You’re really cynical about this. You might even be more jaded than I am.” Bruce scratched lightly at Tony’s spine, hesitating over the small of his back. “It’s probably because you attached yourself to me within seconds. You didn’t hesitate for a moment before dragging me off to the labs, and you were so  _ animated _ about it. The only other person I’ve seen you treat that way was Pepper, and he doesn’t really see you two together.”

Tony tried not to grimace, blindly groping for Bruce and finally curling his hand against his wrist. “That’s because you’re two of my favorites. I’m always like that with my favorites.”

Bruce snorted, maneuvering so he could grasp Tony’s wrist as well. “I’m honored, then. I doubt many people fall into your good graces so easily.”

“You’re one of three, so.” Tony tried to shrug, turning his head so he could actually look at Bruce. “Yeah. I’d say that makes you pretty special.”

A soft smile curved his lips as Bruce leaned over to kiss his temple. “So are you. Can’t say many people would even do half of what you’ve done for us. For me.”

“It’s nothing anyone else wouldn’t have done, if they had the means,” he insisted.

It wasn’t that Tony actually thought that. He’d been informed multiple times that he was going overboard with all of this. It was more… They were his team, like it or not. And he was the one who had money, so he should be the one who did the most to look after them.

“I’m the team dad,” he realized, mouth twisting with dismay. That was a realization he didn’t want to have in bed with Bruce while neither of them were clothed.

Bruce rolled his eyes, ruffling through Tony’s hair. “I was going to call you the team mom, but that works too. It’s not a bad thing, you know. You’re instrumental in keeping us together.”

He wrinkled his nose, and really, Bruce’s commentary wasn’t helping, but at the same time... “Am I mom because you’re the one doing the fucking? Follow-up question: does that make you the team dad?”

That earned him a light tap on the ass, and Tony yelped indignantly in spite of the lack of pain. “Steve’s the team dad. I’m just your second husband or something. You’re the team mom because you do most of the nurturing, clothing, feeding… All that.”

Tony shot Bruce a dirty look, smoothing a hand over his ass as if there was a sting he was trying to sooth. “I can’t believe that after all these years I’m part of a nuclear family, and I end up being the mom. Talk about plot twists. The only way it could get more soap opera-y is if your match showed up to steal you away.”

Bruce didn’t say anything for long enough for Tony to start to worry, expression smoothing out as he stroked along the sensitive skin on the inside of Bruce’s wrist. “Penny for your thoughts?”

He shook his head, palm sliding against Tony’s skin so that their hands could link. “I’m pretty sure if they’re out there, they’re not looking. I wouldn’t worry about them if I was you.”

Something tugged uncomfortably in Tony’s chest, and he squeezed Bruce’s hand as if that would make it go away. “They’re missing out, then. And you got a pretty decent consolation prize, if I do say so myself.”

“I’m reminding you that you called yourself a consolation prize.”

Tony glared at him, using their joined hands to shove at Bruce’s shoulder. “I’m being sweet. Don’t ruin it.”

Bruce’s eyes sparkled, but he didn’t immediately quip back, so Tony would take what he got. “JARVIS, let Tony access my match sites?”

“Of course, Doctor,” J responded promptly.

There was a split moment where Tony wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. Ok, he knew they existed. Rhodey spent a couple years complaining to Tony about the lack of them when he needed them, but it wasn’t something he ever really… Well, he never really saw the point in them, for himself.

Though, he actually found his relatively easy, so he probably shouldn’t judge too harshly.

“I always kind of figured you were matched with Ross,” he said, cuddling up to Bruce. “Though, I’m not entirely sure how the Other Guy changes the game when it comes to this sort of thing.”

“You mean are these my own?” Bruce touched one of the few scars that were scattered across his forearm. Defensive wounds by the looks of them. “Apparently I heal like Steve does. All my scar tissue fades away after I… change.”

Tony nodded slowly, hands falling on the same raised scar Bruce had pointed out. There weren’t a lot. And absently, he couldn’t help but wonder if that meant Bruce’s match scarred up only to have them vanish moments later. “Sounds like both of you have it rough, then.”

Bruce made a small, noncommittal sound as he leaned over to kiss Tony’s cheek. “It doesn’t matter, really. Whoever they are, I’m sure they’d understand.”

Curiosity was loud, in Tony’s head. The desire to know more, to find out who Bruce was even supposed to be with… But then, did he really want to know? More the point, did he want  _ Bruce _ to know? Just because Tony was a cynic who was well aware that soulmates weren’t be-all-end-all didn’t mean Bruce was of the same mind. Didn’t mean that Bruce wouldn’t leave him for them.

He was pulled closer to Bruce’s chest, cheek pressed to his shoulder. “I can feel you overthinking again. I’m not going anywhere, in case you haven’t noticed. You don’t have to worry about that.”

A self-conscious smile tugged at his lips as he settled in. Apparently Bruce was learning all of his tells now. “I know,” he said, reminding himself that, in spite of everything, Bruce hadn’t left yet. Hell, he’d only made one half-hearted attempt since they met, so the odds that he’d stay were actually pretty good. “I trust you to stick around.”


	23. Chapter 23

“You know, this is probably one of the least practical upgrades I’ve seen you do, and I know for a fact that you completely redid Natasha’s suit over a millimeter of thickness.”

Tony turned to glare at Bruce, and managed to get himself just far enough off his mark that the shoulder piece flew right by him and embedded itself in a wall.

They both winced, and Tony tried to get back into place before something else could clip him. “JARVIS, shut it down,” he called, listening to the tell-tale whir of the program stopping. “I don’t know; it’s better than your idea for a suit that could handle the Other Guy.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, crossing the room to pry the armor out of the concrete wall. “You can’t deny that it would be more practical than whatever this is. Are you trying to get it to kill you?”

“If I can get suits to work on a rudimentary AI to act as guards, I should be able to get it to come to me,” he replied. 

More the point, he’d made a lot of concessions for Bruce’s paranoia of the Other Guy. He’d built a safe room. He’d built VERONICA and put her in orbit. Watched him worry over his own blood tests, and given samples of his own to further assuage his worries. Hell, he even didn’t directly interfere with Lullaby specifically because Bruce didn’t want him involved if it went south. Like hell was he going to push it further and build a suit specifically designed to fight Bruce’s alter ego. That was a step too far.

The banged up armor clunked hollowly against the floor, leaving a pretty decent gash in the wall. Maybe, if nothing else, Tony should have it come at him at lower velocities again. At least until he could get the current bugs out.

Bruce sighed, removing his glasses so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. “I’d feel better if you worked on the other one as well. For my own sanity, because this one just seems like a disaster waiting to happen.”

Tony swallowed back his frustration, knowing that fighting over this would get them nowhere. It never really got them anywhere except sleeping on separate floors, and Tony would really like to avoid that right now.

Placating, though. That could maybe get Bruce off his back about it. “I’ll build up blueprints, but that’s all I can promise right now. I want to get this to work first.”

Bruce, for his part, looked wholly unimpressed, but made a point to deliver the shoulder piece to Tony. “Be careful, ok?”

Tony sighed heavily, knowing that was about as close to approval as he was going to get on this matter. “I will,” he promised, stealing a quick kiss before Bruce inevitably walked away to go back to his own work.

“And  _ actually  _ work on the blueprints?” Bruce requested, palm smoothing along the armor on his chest--which had actually attached and formed around him properly, so Tony was going to be smug about that.

“Yes dear,” Tony said blandly, set slightly more at ease at the small smile Bruce offered before heading back to his own lab.

Though, Tony could safely say he had no intention of actually building the suit to fight against the Other Guy. Two countermeasures seemed to be more than enough, in his opinion.

* * *

Tony’s own search for Barnes seemed to be at least somewhat successful, in the sense that he could find where the man had been. The SHIELD dump had put a lot of files out in the open for anyone who was looking and had a good translation service. That said, sifting through files wasn’t at the forefront of his mind, but he did instruct J to let him know if anything important turned up.

* * *

Apparently, the Other Guy still didn’t like Thor all that much. Which Thor thought was amusing as anything, but Bruce couldn’t understand the animosity for the life of him.

Thor seemed content to take it all in stride and seemed to welcome the challenge it presented. “Worry not, friend,” he cajoled as Bruce dabbed at a cut on his forehead. “It’s but a scratch; I know he did not mean it.”

Tony couldn’t help but snort, still peeling off the last of his armor. It had taken too hard of a hit to come off cleanly; the metal denting enough that he had to pull it off himself, or let DUM-E and JARVIS fight against it for an hour. But he, and most of the team, had seen the way that Hulk had bared his teeth and deliberately thrown Thor across the clearing after a poorly timed quip. He knew it, Bruce knew it, Thor sure as hell knew it, in spite of his levity.

“Walking on eggshells isn’t going to help his guilt complex,” Tony called across the room, straining against the chest plate.

Really, his life would be so much easier if he just sat around and let Steve or one of his bots help out with this. But no, he had to be stubborn and do it himself. Even though he was pretty sure it was impossible and he’d end up trying to get Thor to do it instead.

Bruce made a point to roll his eyes, pressing a bandage over Thor’s cut. “You’re not helping either, Tones. Do you need me to get that for you?”

His hands dropped, fingers getting raw from pulling at the armor. And he knew that Bruce would huff at him if he managed to get himself hurt  _ after _ a mission. “If you think you can, yeah. I’d appreciate it.”

He caught Bruce nodding as he turned his focus back to Thor, who really didn’t look very banged up. Probably an Asgardian thing.

Now, Tony couldn’t help but wonder if he should build the suit Bruce wanted him to. Not because he thought the Other Guy was a threat to himself, but in case things got out of hand with Thor.

The thought made him sicker than he cared to admit. But it was starting to sound like a valid point.

Tony kept still, lost in thought enough that he didn’t notice when Thor left, but  _ did _ startle when Bruce’s hands started feeling along the dented seams of his armor. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Bruce murmured. “It’s only me; just breathe.”

He swallowed back his quick retort, not sure what to do with the heavy knot of guilt that was starting to choke him up.

It was stupid. He knew that. Bruce was all for the build, so he wouldn’t be disappointed to know that Tony was considering it. Hell, he’d probably be thrilled to know that Tony had some inkling of ‘self-preservation’ left. Even though that was the last thing that was actually on his mind. 

It seemed like Bruce picked up on the fact that Tony’s thoughts were far away, and he simply set to prying the armor away.

Tony was pretty sure he was either going to have to find Thor or see if JARVIS could actually get him out of it given more time.

The armor popped unsettlingly at the shoulder as it came loose under Bruce’s hands. “Can I look you over once I get this off?” he asked softly, feeling down the seam along Tony’s side.

It took a few seconds to process that. The nonchalance, the way the reinforced armor gave way so  _ easily _ … And last he checked, nothing in Bruce’s file indicated that he was super strong when he wasn’t the Other Guy, but Tony admittedly hadn’t paid that part of the file much mind. He’d been preoccupied with other parts of the medical workup.

“Tones?” Bruce prompted, edging his fingertips into the slight separation.

That jolted him out of it and Tony frowned at Bruce, glancing between him and the piece that looked even worse than it did before Bruce touched it. “Did I miss the super strength thing in your file, or would you have been able to do this when you were younger too?”

Bruce’s eyes were brown as ever as they shifted up to focus on Tony for a brief moment before looking back to his work. “It’s Other Guy related, but it has to be a conscious choice for me to be able to… access that benefit. More the point, I know where the weak points of this are.”

The metal screeched as it was pulled apart, though Tony was pretty sure the damage being inflicted wasn’t nearly as bad as it sounded. It wasn’t like Bruce was tearing it into pieces or anything. That didn’t make him wince any less.

“You’re a lot more sure of him now than you were when you first came here,” Tony noted, finally able to breathe easier now that the chest plate was being eased off of him.

“I have more data on it than I did back then.” His hands touched the hem of Tony’s shirt, brow raised questioningly. When Tony nodded, he eased the material up to expose the mottled bruising that was already showing up painfully bright.

The gentle pressure of Bruce’s hands against it was enough to make Tony pull back sharply, trying to lessen the jolt of pain.

“Sorry,” Bruce murmured, even as he continued to prod. “It’s not good, babe. I think you managed to hurt your ribs again.”

“Sir has two hairline fractures on his ribs as well as a possible concussion,” JARVIS supplied promptly.

Tony glared up at the ceiling. “Traitor,” he muttered, only to be redirected so that Bruce could check his eyes. Though, what he was expecting to see without a light, Tony had no idea. Squishy sciences had never really been his thing, but there were some basics that he was aware of.

“Doctor Banner would have discovered this anyways. I thought it prudent to speed the process along,” J replied, almost sounding snooty. So close to the original Jarvis.

And while that was helpful, and he didn’t  _ actually _ resent JARVIS for bringing up his injuries, he was still going to act put out over it.

* * *

“Ever think about retiring?”

The edge of sleep was still close enough that the sound of Bruce’s voice startled him the slightest bit. Tony stretched lazily, feeling the residual ache in his ribs and shoulders before propping himself up on his elbows to look at his partner. “You and I both know I’d drive myself crazy if I ever stopped.”

Bruce huffed a laugh, still curled up underneath the pile of blankets. Winter was in full force again, and in spite of the fact that the temperature of the room never changed, Bruce tended to huddle more when the weather outside got colder. It was cute, really.

“I didn’t mean fully. You can’t even make yourself stop working for a full day. Just… Retiring from the Avenging stuff.”

“Not even for a second,” Tony answered quickly, honestly. It had never even crossed his mind to stop being Iron Man, even when Pepper had pleaded for him to. Even when he came home a battered mess, and memories of things he’d seen kept him up all night.

Bruce didn’t respond right away, and Tony took it as a cue to add himself to the pile of blankets on top of him, managing to lay his head in the dip of his waist. “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked softly when it became clear that Bruce wasn’t going to reply.

Broad, dexterous fingers started scritching through Tony’s hair almost absently. As if it was more habit than conscious choice. “It’s nothing, dear. Don’t worry about it.”

Tony sighed, nestling against Bruce’s ribs. He knew this dance. And was pretty sure he’d said that exact same phrase more than once. “Don’t do that…”

“Do what?” Bruce asked, eyes straight forward in a way that was definitely not helping convince Tony that it was an idle question.

Tony propped himself up, twining their fingers together. “You’re trying to deflect. And I know this because you’ve lectured me about doing the exact same thing multiple times. Just…” He reached up, cupping Bruce’s cheek and directing him to meet his eyes. There was something almost unsure in his gaze, and that really just made Tony more unsettled. “Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

Bruce turned, lips pressing against Tony’s palm. “We’ll talk about it later, all right? Not right now.”

Normally, Tony would press harder, demand to know what he was talking about. But honestly… He just couldn’t bring himself to. Especially not so early in the day. He nestled back down against Bruce’s waist, laying on his arm so he could continue stroking his thumb across his cheekbone. “All right, babe. Whenever you want to.”

* * *

“Ok, but what if there was a line of defense between us and them?”

Bruce sighed, rubbing his temple. “What, that army of robots controlled by your AI? Which, no offense, I adore JARVIS, but… You realize that’s the step between us and a really bad scifi dystopia, right?”

Tony shrugged, tinkering with one of Iron Legion bots. Again. Sure, there was an automated system for them, but on days like this where he just wanted his hands busy? “Yeah, but they’ll be primarily controlled by JARVIS, so I don’t know why this would be a problem.”

“You want to name it  _ Ultron _ . You’re either getting a cheesy superhero or you’re getting a villain.”

While accurate, Tony still made a show of letting his wrench clatter to the floor, aiming an appalled stare at Bruce for a brief moment. “It’s a working title, first of all. I knew I shouldn’t have told you about that, and second of all…” He paused, not sure how to word it. He knew Bruce didn’t like fighting. And god knew Tony didn’t want to face actual aliens again. Not on his own. Not knowing what they were capable of. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have another safety measure?”

Bruce still looked less than impressed, picking up the wrench and handing it back. “I know. Really, I do, but… What if it goes wrong?”

“What if JARVIS had gone wrong?” Tony countered. He’d heard similar arguments when J was in his infancy. And since he’d been raised on, probably, the same bad scifi as Bruce was, he knew the supposed risks. The way Tony saw it though, this was just an extension of something he’d already done.

At least this time, Bruce didn’t start pointing out the pitfalls immediately. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument, and it had gotten more and more frequent as the ‘Hulkbuster Suit’ slowly came to fruition.

Bruce had thought the name was hysterical, so Tony kept it.

“Just consider it, theoretically,” Tony prompted. “I mean, we both know that if we manage to actually get this to work, it would take years. Decades, even. Plenty of time to work out the kinks and prevent him from becoming an evil overlord.”

* * *

There was a weird tension in the room when Thor brought in another lead on Loki’s scepter. The dark bags under Steve’s eyes rivaled the ones Tony tended to sport, and under the table Bruce clung tightly to his hand.

“I’ve never even  _ heard _ of this place,” Tony grumbled, looking at the map. Sokovia. Natasha was probably familiar with it, and possibly Steve since he’d been running all around Europe with Sam. “You’re sure it’s there? We’ve already been to twelve different bases in the last couple years.”

Thor looked solemn, which was way different from the general cheer he tended to carry with him.

Maybe that was why everyone was on edge. Their perpetual sunshine was upset, and everyone else was feeding off of that.

“I’m sure.”

Steve sighed, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eyes. “All right. Thor and I will draw up a plan of attack on our way there. Clint, do you mind piloting?”

Clint shrugged, sprawled out lazily across both his and Natasha’s chair. “Fine with me.”

Part of Tony wanted to argue about him helping in some way, but… Well. He’d accepted the fact that the Avengers were primarily Steve’s, whether he wanted them or not. Tony may be able to work well on his own. But he recognized that he wasn’t really ‘team leader’ material, so he learned to sit back and let Steve take over. Bruce seemed to appreciate the way their fighting petered off after that.

“All right,” Steve said, a small smile touching the corner of his lips. “Let’s suit up, guys.”


	24. Chapter 24

Tony should have listened to Bruce. Maybe not on everything, but it felt like a lot of went wrong could have been avoided if he’d just… Just fucking _listened_.

But he didn’t. He didn’t, and now Bruce was gone, and almost everyone was in the wind, and Tony felt completely numb, and the entire world was starting to wonder again how safe the Avengers were.

The last part would pass. It always did, even though it made Tony feel vaguely wrongfooted sometimes. Pepper assured him, during one of her brief phone calls, that it was for the best.

The only people who lived in the Tower now were himself and Steve. Well, and JARVIS, once Tony found the backup files for him and got him reinstated in the Tower. No one had to know that he teared up the second he heard JARVIS’ familiar voice say ‘It’s good to be home, sir’. It wasn’t like anyone was around to check on him. Well. Except Steve, who recently decided to make his presence known.

“I just have to finish this program,” Tony insisted. The coding across the holoscreen in front of him was really little more than a blur at this point, but he thought he’d pinpointed a way to actually _find_ Bruce, so he had to at least…

“Tony, you’ve been down here for two days straight,” Steve said gently, grasping his shoulder and pulling him back. “I don’t think you’ve left since you were cleared to work. You can finish it after you’ve slept for a few hours.”

Wrenching himself from Steve’s hold, Tony grasped the dark brown file, starting to crease where Tony continually opened and closed it. “I’m fine,” he bit back, refusing to be placated. Not when the wound was so open and was figuratively bleeding all over the place.

He could hear Steve sigh, but no retreating footsteps. Though, he didn’t try and reach for Tony again, so he’d take the small mercies. “You’re about as fine as I am, and trust me when I say that’s not a good thing.”

“At least when your guy runs off you at least have some semblance of a guarantee he’ll come back,” Tony grumbled.

“Tony.”

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t really think that. Tony knew, better than most people, that there was always a chance that someone wouldn’t come back. Matched or not. It was just old insecurities cropping up, and he knew better. “Yeah. Sorry.”

The answering smile Steve offered was strained at best, hands shoved in the pockets of his khakis.

He should probably actually replace Steve’s wardrobe. Just to give himself something to do, since he got the sense it would be like when he bought things for Bruce. There were nice things in his closet, but like hell Bruce ever wore them unless he had absolutely nothing else.

“I’ll just…” Tony motioned vaguely to the screens. “J, save everything and shut it down?”

“For a minimum of eight hours,” Steve cut in before JARVIS could get started. As if he could actually override Tony.

“SLEEP Protocol activated,” JARVIS intoned before the entire lab went dark.

And that… Ok, that was new. That was _definitely_ not something Tony had programmed, and how the hell was Steve able to activate it?

Tony was quick to aim a sharp glare at the blond, hands clenched around the file tight enough that his knuckles were white. “What did you do?” he demanded, heedless of bewilderment on Steve’s face. “What the _hell_ did you do? Eight hours? You locked me out of my fucking lab for _eight hours_?”

“I didn’t…” Steve looked up at the ceiling helplessly, shoulders hunching in on themselves.

“The protocol was designed by Doctor Banner. Authorized users are himself, Captain Rogers, Miss Potts, Colonel Rhodes, and Miss Romanoff,” JARVIS said, sounding just as snippy as Tony did.

Probably, he didn’t appreciate Tony yelling at Steve. Especially over something that wasn’t technically his fault.

It was hard to swallow the absurd swell of hurt that knotted up in his throat. Harder to even figure out what to do next. He knew Bruce. Knew that if he put something in motion like this, it would affect all of his things. He couldn’t access work via his tablet, his phone… Anything that JARVIS was in, he couldn’t work on it.

“I didn’t know it was there. I didn’t mean…”

Tony waved him off, feeling himself deflate. Anger couldn’t sustain him right now. Honestly, he felt on the verge of tears and that wasn’t a level he was planning on sinking to. He was one of the last team members left here; he couldn’t go breaking down. Especially not in front of Steve. “Don’t worry about it, Spangles. I’ll make do,” he insisted. “Go paint something, or whatever it is you do in your free time.”

JARVIS would know what he did. He got the sense that Steve would be completely and utterly appalled at just how much his AI already learned in the few days that he’d lived here properly.

The hesitation was palpable, though Tony refused to look at him as he gathered up files, spare pads of paper, and whatever else might be useful if he was going to have to work sans-tech for the next… seven hours and however many minutes were left before JARVIS unlocked everything for him.

“Go,” Tony insisted, painting a smile that he was sure _looked_ convincing, even if it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. “I’m just packing up and I’ll head out. Not like I have an override for this.”

But Steve apparently seemed content to wait, hands tucked away as he looked around the lab. Belatedly, Tony remembered that he hadn’t exactly been down here before.

“You can touch, if you want. Pretty sure you won’t manage to break anything,” Tony offered rashly. “I mean, it’s more impressive when everything’s humming along, as I’m sure you noticed, but. If you want to have a look around, that’s fine.”

Steve shot him a rather unimpressed look that looked heart wrenchingly similar to one that both Bruce and Pep used on him. “How about you get some sleep, and worry about giving me the grand tour later.”

There weren’t any pens that Tony could find, and he didn’t know why that surprised him. Hell, the only reason there was paper here was because Bruce tended to run calculations by hand when he was tinkering here with Tony.

Though, he supposed that it would stand to reason that Bruce had abandoned a pen here _somewhere_.

“Tony,” Steve prompted again, and Tony was officially sure that he had no intention of getting in the elevator alone.

He sighed heavily, arms full of papers and files. “Yeah. All right,” he agreed listlessly, forcing himself to keep his head up as they went to the elevator. Trying to look put together in spite of everything Steve had already seen from him. “Your room all right? I wasn’t sure on the colors since you don’t really personalize anything much. At least, not where I can see it.”

Somehow, the eyeroll Steve gave was less than exasperated, but not quite fond either. “The floor is fantastic, Tony. You don’t have to change anything again.”

“There’s always room for improvement,” Tony insisted, relieved when the elevator stopped at his floor first. Being on the extreme upper levels had its perks, occasionally. “Just let me know, ok? My skills are at your disposal.” He more or less stumbled out of the elevator in his haste to put space between them, though Steve only looked vaguely disappointed.

In the back of his mind, he heard Bruce’s voice reminding him to go easier on Steve. It didn’t help Tony’s already guilt-ridden mood.

Without even trying, Tony knew sleep wouldn’t come easily, or at all for him. Not tonight. Hell, he didn’t think he’d slept well since the night before Ultron became a nightmarish reality, and the longer he was awake, the more choked he felt. It was shitty. Realistically, he knew he should probably call either Rhodey or Pepper. Someone to stay with him, maybe break the spiral of self-doubt that was keeping him up.

He didn’t do that, though. Instead. He pulled out Bruce’s medical files and tried to remember exactly how the code went that had tracked down the Tesseract. If he could do that, then reapply it to search for the faint radiation Bruce gave off… It was a long shot. But right now, it was the best idea he had.

* * *

Of course it didn’t work.

Sure, Tony got the program up and running. He got it scanning. That didn’t change the fact that, as radioactive as Bruce claimed to be especially in the earlier days, it wasn’t really enough to be picked up on. Hell, it was barely enough to be considered dangerous, though he could sort of understand that repeated and extended exposure might warp that perception.

Maybe, he managed to convince himself, it wasn’t needless paranoia on Bruce’s part. Just misinformed and anxiety-induced paranoia.

The point was, after two solid weeks there were no hits on his search. He’d done everything save for putting out an actual reward, because he was pretty damn sure that Bruce would come home. It was maybe just taking him time to get here, since Tony was sure he didn’t have ID or wallet on him when he crashed in the middle of the ocean.

And unlike Steve, Bruce wasn’t recognizable enough that people would trip over themselves to help him, even though they _should_.

So he tried to be patient. Tried to keep himself busy and refused to let himself fall apart over this.

* * *

Holding it together lasted a few weeks longer than Tony expected it to. Almost a full month. He pushed on like normal, not fighting when Steve would bring him sandwiches or soup occasionally and not yelling at him when he was dragged off to bed.

Really, Bruce had been right. Steve didn’t need his bullshit on top of what he was already dealing with. Though Tony liked to think he was handling the loss of his partner a lot better than Steve was, even if he didn’t actually see him for long enough to confirm that. It was just a nice thought.

But this… This was a little more than what Tony was capable of handling.

The largest display was currently showing a photograph of someone--Tony was pretty sure they were a woman, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually look at the profile--with a similar set of scars scattered across the fair skin of their forearm.

A potential match. Something Tony didn’t think he’d ever have to deal with when it came to Bruce, but that was probably him being naive. Of course he should have planned for this and in retrospect he didn’t know why he hadn’t.

He wasn’t prepared for the sourness of bile in his stomach, or the way he couldn’t tear his eyes away, or the surging, unwarranted _hatred_ that he didn’t know what to do with.

It was three in the morning. JARVIS had informed him that Steve was in his room and was not to be disturbed hours ago. And while he hadn’t _said_ that Steve had company, it felt pretty implied.

More the point, there wasn’t anyone to drag him to bed, or check on him, or generally talk him out of making rash decisions, and he was determined to use that freedom for all it was worth.

Tony was pretty sure that, even if Bruce happened to have his phone on him in Sokovia, there was no way in hell it was still with him now. It probably wouldn’t have even survived the crash, but Bruce made a point to keep himself as far under the radar as possible, even while living with Tony, so he couldn’t even try and run a tracker on it to be sure.

The line rang. Twice. Half a dozen times. The edge of his worktable dug into his palms as he leaned on it, desperate for anything. An answer. An automated voice telling him the line was disconnected.

His eyes burned as they stared past the phone’s display, still hyperfocused on the photographs from one of Bruce’s sites. The person with a set of half a dozen small defensive scars. It made him sick. Anger boiled in his veins, choking him, making it hard to even _breathe_.

It felt like half an hour later before a prim, automated voice informed him that he’d reached voicemail, and it took several seconds for him to process that.

Long enough that he wasn’t sure if he’d actually heard the beep, or if he’d just imagined it.

“Bruce, hey, it’s me,” he said, nearly stumbling over his words in his haste. “I…”

Tony swallowed thickly. What was he supposed to _say_? Faintly, he was aware that he was shaking. That it was still recording him, and he wasn’t saying anything because if Bruce had his phone and hadn’t called…

No. Bruce wouldn’t do that. He steeled himself, looking up at the display as if Bruce was there and could actually see him. “I don’t know if you’re there, or if your phone’s even working, but… Yeah. I just… wanted to say that I love you. Ok? And I miss you, and I really want you to come back. On the off chance you get this, please just…”

Tears finally spilled over, and Tony felt himself crumble. Fuck. Just… _fuck_. “Come home,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, home stretch. I've got one version of this absolutely completed, but it might go through a complete rewrite between now and when I post it. Endgame's the same, but it's all a matter of Angst versus Angst Lite, you know?  
> Thank you so much to everyone for sticking through this


	25. Chapter 25

Somehow, time still ticked  forward. Clint and Natasha came back. He and Steve definitely didn’t talk about the day they spent together the morning after he tried to call Bruce and, most likely, after Bucky had spent the night. Thor even dropped by once or twice. Everything looked normal, because really, if there was one thing that Tony was good at, it was acting like everything was perfectly all right, even when he felt like his entire world was falling apart. 

He just didn’t expect that facade to shatter so thoroughly in the middle of them watching The Hobbit.

JARVIS didn’t announce any visitors. Which was definitely unusual, but not really unheard of, as far as Tony was concerned. But the soft ding of the elevator arriving caught everyone’s attention, even Steve who had been pretty damn engrossed in the film.

Which Tony was taking to mean either he never read the book, or he was one of those people who didn’t compare the two automatically. Either way, Tony was admittedly a little jealous, since he couldn’t do the same.

Without really thinking about it, Tony looked over the back of the couch to see who had showed up this time, assuming that it was probably Pepper, since JARVIS  _ never _ announced her arrivals.

The doors slid open to reveal Bruce, whose knuckles were white against the strap of his rucksack, though he stepped out of the elevator as if nothing was wrong and Tony was pretty sure he saw red.

There was a weird mix of relief and fury storming through him, because on one hand Bruce was back. He was  _ home _ . On the other hand… It had been months. No phone call. Not even a ‘goodbye’.

Vaguely, he registered Clint whistling lowly, but Tony’s primary focus was scrambling up himself, grabbing Bruce by the arm and hauling him right back in the elevator without saying a word.

“Leave them be,” Natasha insisted, probably to Steve. Clint didn’t tend to try to interfere with other people, or try to mediate unless there was an actual fight going on. Sure, he’d make snide comments, but...

Bruce didn’t seem to even try to pull back, just stumbling into the elevator with Tony, and he absently noticed how exhausted Bruce looked. “JARVIS, top floor,” Tony instructed, refusing to let go of Bruce’s wrist.

“Tones…”

“No,” Tony interrupted, glaring at him. “Not here.” Not now, really. He didn’t want to be reassured. Or placated. Or called ‘Tones’. He was  _ angry _ and he wanted Bruce to be uncomfortably aware of that fact.

Apparently the tactic worked, since Bruce tried to shrink back against the elevator wall. As much as he could without disturbing Tony’s grip.

The ride from there was silent, save for the quiet whir of the elevator itself. Hell, J didn’t even add the soft ding when the doors opened to the top lab, looking bare without VERONICA taking up half the floor.

Only then did Tony let go, striding out of the elevator and firmly keeping his back to Bruce. “What the absolute fuck, Banner,” he said flatly, softly. Knowing that if he tried to speak even a little louder it would end up in screaming, and Tony really didn’t want that right now. Not when Bruce had been gone so long and proved that he  _ would _ vanish without notice.

That knowledge twisted his heart, hard enough that there was a split second he was convinced there was something wrong with the reactor and moved to cover it with his palm.

His voice was just as soft when he finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

‘Sorry’. Of fucking course he was sorry. Tony swallowed thickly, nails digging into the palm of his hand, almost using the pain to ground him. Years of people walking away, and he’d finally managed to trust that Bruce  _ wouldn’t _ and what happens? “Sorry enough that you didn’t even call? Yeah, I noticed. Thanks for that,” he bit out.

Bruce’s jaw clenched, hand still tight around the worn out strap of his bag. “It’s not like you’re easy to get ahold of from halfway around the world.”

“It would have been if you had  _ tried _ . Hell, if you’d even called SI they would have put you through to me without a lot of hassle. You didn’t even…” Tony faltered, blinking back tears he hadn’t remembered building up. He turned away abruptly, wishing that he had actually rebuilt his alcohol stash in the wake of all of this.

He’d tried to be good. He didn’t want Bruce to be disappointed in him when he came back, and he’d been so sure that it would happen sooner rather than later, that…

“I’m sorry,” Bruce repeated, softer. Barely audible in spite of the silence of the floor. “I needed some space, and I didn’t think…”

Silence hung heavy, feeling like an additional weight on Tony’s shoulders. No matter how that sentence ended, it would hurt. “You should have said something, then. If there was something about us that was bothering you, you should have  _ told me _ , because I thought everything was fine. You said that everything was fine, and then you just…” He shook his head.

Quiet footsteps were the only indication that Bruce was still there, drawing closer until Tony almost convinced himself that he could hear him breathing. “It was never anything wrong with us, Tones.”

He had to swallow back the knot of tears, standing rigidly in place. “Clearly there was, or you wouldn’t have abandoned us all like that. One second everything is as fine as it ever is during a mission, and the next second, you’re flying off in the middle of nowhere with no reasonable way to track you. And trust me, I tried. You are  _ definitely _ not radioactive enough to be dangerous, by the way.”

Tony had to bite his tongue, knowing he’d keep babbling otherwise, and he just… He didn’t want to. Didn’t want to admit to every damn thing he had done trying to find Bruce while he was finding himself or whatever.

“Can I touch you?” Bruce asked, almost instantly distracting Tony from his internal monologue.

Part of Tony wanted to say no. To keep demanding answers that he knew he wouldn’t like. The rest of him just wanted to act like everything was still fine and just… be comforted.

Ultimately, the latter won out and he nodded a little stiffly. Hell,  _ everything _ about him felt stiff, even as Bruce wrapped his arms around his waist, forehead pressed against Tony’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, palm just shy of covering the reactor, and Tony wasn’t sure if he was just trying to be mindful, or if he didn’t think he was allowed anymore. “I panicked, and by the time I could actually bring myself to think about it…” Bruce sighed heavily, squeezing gently for a moment.

Tony’s breath was shaky as he finally let himself lean back against Bruce. “You can’t do that again,” he whispered, clasping a hand over Bruce’s wrist. “I swear to god, if you run off again I’ll revoke all your access codes and make sure JARVIS never lets you back in.”

They were empty threats. Tony knew it, and he was pretty sure Bruce knew it too, but he didn’t say anything to the contrary. He just let Tony’s weight push against him and refused to let go.

It was… almost normal. Grounding, at the very least, in a way that Tony had desperately missed in the two months that he had been gone.

“Did your phone survive?” Tony asked after a few minutes.

There was a soft, inquisitive sound, but Bruce didn’t seem like he was going to properly answer without an explanation.

“I know you disabled the tracker, so I couldn’t do more than a cursory check on that, but I called. And I--actually, you know what? It’s not that important. Forget I mentioned anything.”

Bruce propped his chin on top of Tony’s shoulder, stepping forward so that he was pressed more fully against Tony’s back. “It’s in the Tower somewhere. I don’t usually bring it with me if I think I’m going to have to change, so I think it’s still in lab 5.”

Tony was pretty sure he hadn’t been up there since… Actually, he hadn’t even been involved in the cleanup there. He’d been too busy back in 1 trying to figure out how to track down the quinjet the Other Guy had taken.

Which probably meant someone had found it and kept it, it  _ was _ broken, or that it had been thrown away. If someone had found it and turned it in, it would have gotten back to him by now.

“Guess I’ll just have to get you a new one, in that case,” Tony muttered, letting his eyes slip shut. “I’m not entirely sure what that floor even looks like at that point, but I’m pretty sure Ultron’s body carrier thing isn’t there anymore, so there’s that.”

“Trying to be a little more hands-off? Which would be a good thing, honestly. You always work too much.”

Tony swallowed thickly, not really wanting to admit to how thoroughly he fell apart in Bruce’s absence. Instead, he covered Bruce’s hand with his own and slid it over to press against his heart. “You have no room to talk in that regard, Brucie,” he teased halfheartedly.

The familiar awkwardness that plagued the early stages of their relationship, hell even their  _ friendship _ when Tony started pushing for more physical closeness. The feeling of not knowing where the lines were anymore, and Tony had really hoped they were done with this part.

Except he was trying to be angry. And while they’d disagreed on quite a few things, they hadn’t fought too terribly often before, and he wasn’t sure how to come back from this.

“Do you want me to leave?” Bruce asked softly after the silence dragged on for what felt like several minutes.

Tony couldn’t help but laugh, wincing at how wet the sound was. “I spent three straight days developing a program to scan for your specific radiation signature. And then a couple extra hours later, because Steve triggered some protocol of yours to shut me out of my work.” He scraped his nails lightly over the back of Bruce’s hand, as if he could make his point that way. “You’re going to have to dismantle that, just so you know. Seriously, letting  _ Steve _ having the ability to lock me out?”

“It made sense at the time I was building it,” Bruce admitted, thumb swiping along the outer rim of the reactor. “A backup for when I wasn’t there, or if Pepper was in Malibu…”

Tony wrinkled his nose, letting his head tip back to rest against Bruce’s shoulder. He hated it. Eight hours of being powerless to really do anything, knowing Bruce was out there, and unable to even start looking for him… “Well, you’re not leaving again, so we don’t need that protocol. Take it down.”

He felt the short laugh more than heard it, warm breath against the skin of his neck. “You’re a lot more sure of me than I am.”

“As always,” Tony pointed out. “You were doing better, you know. I like to think you trusted yourself as much as I trusted you before Ultron happened.”

“I figured you’d learn that you shouldn’t depend on me, over time.” In spite of Tony’s hold, his palm slipped down, away from his chest.

Panic almost instantly set in, and he instantly tightened his hand around Bruce’s. It was irrational; he knew that. Didn’t make it any less visceral.

Bruce was quick to shush him, flipping his palm over to twine his fingers with Tony’s for a brief moment. “Wait, all right? You’re overthinking before I even finish my thought.”

Before Tony could point out how that was the  _ least _ reassuring thing Bruce could say right then, Bruce dropped Tony’s hand only to press his palm over the reactor itself. Well. Tony’s shirts were still barriers between him and the actual metal, but it still set Tony’s nerves off the slightest bit.

He trusted Bruce with it, before. And objectively that hadn’t changed, because he  _ knew _ Bruce was fascinated with it and wouldn’t dare do anything to destroy it.

He wouldn’t dare destroy Tony like that.

“The problem with my reasoning was, I didn’t realize how much I came to depend on you in turn,” Bruce continued. “That I relied on you just as much as you relied on me, and I didn’t realize it until I was gone.”

Somehow, that really didn’t sit well with him, and Tony made a point to ease away so he could actually look Bruce in the eye without actually putting more space between them. “I don’t need you,” he said firmly, no matter how much it stung. As if he was lying straight to Bruce’s face, even though he damn well knew it was the truth. He’d survived without Bruce. He could do it again if he needed to. “You don’t need me either, though. And that’s fine; I’m not… It’s not a bad thing. That’s why this works for us; because we’re not dependant on each other.”

“Tones--”

“Ok, even if that’s not the point you were trying to make, it needs to be said,” he interrupted. “Because I’m not guilting you into staying. I’m not going to wither and die without you to take care of me; if you’re here, it’s because you want to be.”

Bruce stayed silent, eyes darting over Tony’s expression as if he could find the right answer there. Maybe he could; what did Tony know?

“All right?” he prompted, slipping his fingers into Bruce’s belt loops. Not to start anything. God knew that was the last thing on his mind right now, but…

It tied them together. And it kept Bruce close, and he’d missed being able to do that.

“Are we going to be ok?” Bruce asked instead.

“We’ll figure it out. Just like we always have,” he said, a small smile touching his lips in spite of how shaky it felt.

That seemed to be all the confirmation Bruce needed before wrapping his arms back around Tony, and now he could truly feel how much his hands were trembling against his shoulder blades. “I’m really sorry,” he breathed, tucked right back into the crook of Tony’s neck.

Tony felt more than a little unsteady himself as he returned the embrace, cupping the back of Bruce’s neck. He didn’t want to say it was all right. That he was ok with what Bruce had done. Instead, he pressed a chaste kiss to the top of his head and hoped that was enough. “I know, Brucie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I'm getting nervous with so little left to go Dx That said, I'm really grateful to you all for sticking with me, and this, for so long. You're all fantastic and I adore you all


	26. Chapter 26

It was a little more stilted around the Tower for a while. Sure, Tony had managed to get himself back into his old routines with Bruce, and Clint and Natasha were a little more obvious with their comings and goings, but there was an added person to their little team that really set Tony’s teeth on edge.

James Buchanan Barnes.

It hadn’t taken JARVIS more than two days of searching for him to bring his attention to a mission from December 16, 1991, and the video of said mission was appallingly easy to find.

Watching it had made him physically ill, and it had been one of the few nights before Ultron that he’d stayed up in the labs and promised Bruce that nothing was wrong. That his mind was just working too fast to sleep. It was half true, at least.

He never said a word, assuming either Steve or Natasha would pull him aside to let him know at some point. Tony wasn’t stupid enough to think neither of them knew, and since they  _ both _ had looked for the guy, well… It stood to reason that at least one of them had found it.

But no one said a word to him. Not even after the elevator opened again, revealing a man who looked so tired, so much older, but also so much like the old war photographs his father had displayed once upon a time, when Tony was still young and thought way too highly of Captain America.

Tony had instantly turned back to the movie, trying to stay pliantly draped over Bruce’s lap.

Judging by the reassuring squeeze Bruce gave his knee, the facade wasn’t as seamless as he would have liked it to be.

He made a point to keep it to himself, to not let on that he knew anything or held any animosity towards Bucky. And considering the fact that Steve didn’t get defensive, he apparently did a pretty good job with that.

Still, no one pulled him aside to let him know that the man living on Steve’s floor was the same one who had killed his parents. His  _ mother _ . It pissed him the fuck off, and the longer it went on, the more Bruce started to pick up on it, offering concerned glances and reassuring touches.

The crux of that was that he didn’t want to tell Bruce about this, since the two of them got on so fucking well, and he knew that Bruce  _ liked _ being able to connect to people and help them and Tony didn’t want to ruin that in any way.

Granted, it didn’t take long before Bucky first came to the lab, tucked almost behind Steve and asking for Tony to take a look at his arm.

And damn it, Tony wasn’t mad enough to miss out on that opportunity.

* * *

Bucky started to become a regular occurrence in Tony’s lab. And frustratingly enough, the more he was around, the harder it was to dislike the guy.

Sure, he flinched every time he came near the arm, and he’d killed two different soldering torches, but… Well. He was a lot like Bruce, sometimes. They both seemed to carry themselves as if the entire world was pushing them down, but they both held onto some bone-deep dignity even while they were sinking.

“I feel like we need a safeword or something,” Tony grumbled when Bucky winced hard enough to wrench the screwdriver clear out of his hand.

“We  _ have _ a safeword, Tones,” Bruce retorted automatically, even though he hadn’t said a word in the last two hours.

“Not the point right now, babe,” Tony shot back, glaring across the room at him. It was a flat out lie--neither of them had dabbled in anything dangerous enough to warrant one, but still. The day he didn’t snark back at Bruce was the day he died.

Bruce hummed noncommittally, scrolling back through his equations, so Tony got back to working on Bucky’s arm.

“I’m guessing we shouldn’t strap you down,” Tony muttered, delicately pulling the screwdriver out. “Seriously, safeword? Or we could have Steve sit with you; that sometimes helps.”

“What, this something you do a lot of?” Bucky asked, clearly getting frustrated.

Whether he was frustrated with himself or with Tony, he couldn’t entirely tell, so he just bent his head down and set to edging it around the plate to get to the switch to open the damn thing. “Used to, yeah,” he muttered.

Tony glanced over to Bruce surreptitiously before tapping at the metal rim of the reactor, covered up by a pair of t-shirts that still couldn’t completely obscure the brightness of it. “Haven’t had to in a while, but… Someone else being there can help.”

There was definitely something shocked in Bucky’s eyes as he glanced from his face down to the blue light a couple of times. “I don’t think I want him to see it like this,” he admitted, looking away all together.

And, well, Tony couldn’t claim he didn’t understand that. God knew he didn’t call Pepper about it until it had become dire. And even then, when it was killing him, he didn’t dare let Pep know about that. “Safeword it is, then. I’m thinking pineapple.”

* * *

It had quickly gotten to the point where Tony was wondering if he should just build an entirely new arm for Bucky. Not, in his opinion, that it would actually make much of a difference, since it wasn’t necessarily the arm that was causing most of the problems. It was the last seventy years of his life.

Though one of the few selling points the project had was that, while Tony had been able to fix all the glitches that had been occurring, it would be a lot easier if it was his own work he was trying to fix instead of some very Soviet-looking tech that may or may not be decades old.

So he worked up blueprints. JARVIS had enough scans of the arm he  _ currently _ had, both interior and exterior, so if he could just...

“You just don’t stop, do you?”

Tony nearly dropped his tablet, knowing it was late enough that even Bruce had gone to bed an hour ago, after making Tony promise that he’d be up before three. He sighed, straightening up to offer Bucky a withering look.  “All mothering duties are the sole responsibility of Bruce, so…”

Bucky glanced around the space before shrugging half-heartedly. “I don’t see the good doctor here right now, so let me worry in the interim.”

Tony scoffed, closing down the blueprints he’d been working on. “It’s late, you know. You’re supposed to be cuddling up with blondie right about now, aren’t you?”

“You should be doing the same with Banner, so… Pot, kettle.” Bucky looked around the mostly-dark room, hands clasped behind his back. “I think… We need to talk about something.”

A critical look showed Bucky almost as unsure as he had been day one. Eyes firmly on anything except Tony. Stock still, and fuck, Tony was  _ not _ ready to deal with this. “How about we don’t and say we did? Then you go up to Steve, I’ll finish up here, and we can keep going on as normal.”

“It’s about--”

“I know,” Tony cut in, glaring outright at Bucky. Two week’s worth of frustration was trying to boil over without Bruce there to mediate. “I know, ok? You don’t have to tell me about what happened in ‘91, because I already fucking know.”

His face went ashen, and Tony almost regretted it. But… God, he’d come down here in the middle of the night to mention it. He doubted Bucky thought it was going to go  _ well _ .

“Who told you?” he asked softly.

Tony scoffed derisively, having J pull up an old suit blueprint just to clutter up the room a little bit. “No one. Look, just… We’re not talking about it. Point is, I know, and I’m still going to help you out. I’m not kicking you out, and I’m probably still going to try and replace that HYDRA arm of yours, so we can… It’s fine. It’s not a problem.”

Bucky swallowed thickly, but nodded once, taking a slightly unsteady step backwards. “I’m sorry.”

And god, of course he was. Tony couldn’t even doubt that. That didn’t make his next words any easier to say. “It’s not your fault.”

The answering smile was a little shaky, and Tony didn’t think he let himself relax until he heard the elevator close.

“Sir, if I may…”

“Not now, JARVIS,” Tony sighed. Any and all energy he had was sapped away. “Save everything up for me, all right? I’ll take another run at it tomorrow.”

The trip back down to his floor felt a lot longer than it was, but he was more than relieved when he saw the bedroom light was still on.

Bruce took one look at him and set aside his tablet, getting out of bed and immediately cupping his cheek. “You look like you’ve lost a week of sleep in the three hours since I’ve been down here,” he said, worry creasing his brow.

Tony was quick to bury his face in Bruce’s shoulder, pretty sure he was going to accidentally ruin his shirt with any soot that may be streaked across his forehead. “Bucky decided to have a talk with me,” he muttered, arms sliding around his partner’s hips. “It’s too late for morality issues, you know? Or  _ emotions _ .”

A warm palm started smoothing down his back in a slow loop, and it was all Tony could do to not just slump forward and hope that Bruce caught all of his weight. “Is it about whatever had you so snippy with him when he first got here?”

Tony grumbled incoherently, stepping further into the dwindling space between them. “I was hoping if I just ignored it, it would go away,” he muttered. “And I mean, it kind of worked? For a while, at least, but now it’s out there and I have to actually  _ acknowledge _ it.”

Bruce hummed sympathetically. “Are you ever going to tell me what it is he did? You’d think he attacked DUM-E or something with how…” He trailed off.

“Or something,” Tony agreed listlessly. “Turns out it wasn’t exactly a car accident that killed my parents. Who knew, right?”

He could  _ feel _ the tension locking Bruce up, and he instantly regretted saying it like that if Bruce was going to freeze up on him. “He…”

This was kind of why he didn’t want Bruce to know. It was either going to end with pity towards Tony or anger towards Bucky, and neither of those options really sat well with him. “Yeah. The footage was… terrible quality, but yeah.” He swallowed thickly, curling in on himself when Bruce gripped the back of his shirt.

The silence felt unbearably heavy, and Tony could hear how shaky his breathing was. It was uncomfortable. The problem was, he didn’t have the faintest clue how to break it.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce whispered. “Watching something like that…”

The words were like a stab in the gut. Right. The mysterious past that Tony had definitely  _ not  _ dug into while Bruce was gone. The one that wasn’t even remotely what Tony had expected, but turned out to be a thousand times worse. Bruce didn’t even have the luxury of decades passing or viewing it second hand.

“I guess you’d know better than most, wouldn’t you?” he asked before taking a shuddering breath. “It’s… I don’t know. I’m more bitter than anything that  _ he’s _ the one who brought it up first, I think. Like, warning would have been appreciated, whether I needed it or not.”

Something about that got Bruce to lock up even more, pulling back so he could look at Tony with wide eyes. “Did other people know about this?”

Tony grimaced, quickly avoiding meeting Bruce’s eyes. “If they didn’t, it’s because they didn’t want to know. JARVIS got it to me in under a week, and that was when it was on the extreme backburner. And you and I both know that Natasha can find anything given the proper inclination, so if she didn’t know…”

Bruce swallowed thickly before he pulled Tony close again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

It was hard not to laugh. Not that any of this was even remotely funny, but because… Just, shit. This entire thing was a trainwreck and Tony was still trying to process it. “I  _ want _ a bottle of scotch, but I’ll settle for a shower and a day in bed tomorrow.”

“Tony Stark, voluntarily taking a break?” Bruce asked, mock-scandalized. “Who are you and what have you done with my partner?”

His answering scoff was a little more watery than he would like, but he made up for it by gently shoving against Bruce’s shoulder. “I was even going to ask if you wanted to join me, but if that’s how you’re going to be.”

“I’ll play nice,” Bruce reassured quickly.

Abstractly, Tony wasn’t sure why he was so worried about this. He should have known better, considering everything else that Bruce hadn’t thrown a fit over. The reactor? Wasn’t an issue unless Tony made it one. Pepper? Only an issue until Tony made it absolutely clear that it wasn’t one.

Though, he wasn’t naive enough to think that Bruce wouldn’t want to talk about it later. Maybe not now, but… It would probably come up in a week or two, once he thought Tony had settled in a little bit more.

“Yeah, ok dear,” he said, trying to give him a flat look and only partially succeeding. It was just… He missed this. The returning snark even in the face of something horrible.

There was something soft, almost fragile about Bruce’s smile as he linked their fingers together. “Come on. You’re kind of a mess.”

“You knew I was a mess from the second I walked into that helicarrier,” Tony retorted, turning away to head towards the en suite. If this was what actually broke away the last of the lingering awkwardness, Tony was going to have to act put out over it.

Arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him back for a brief moment. “Yeah. I guess I did,” Bruce murmured before pressing his lips to Tony’s clothed shoulder. “But I knew you were a good kind of mess, so I think that evens out.”

It was blessedly not long before Bruce had him under the hot water, braced against the wall since Bruce had taken it upon himself to get him ‘clean’. Which, thus far, had only included getting the shower  _ on _ , and wiping away some of the mess from Tony’s hands and face before turning to other pursuits.

Tony found his head pulled back, exposing his throat in an arc sharp enough to edge into ‘uncomfortable’, but not quite far enough that he was squirming away from his hold.

“Babe,” he started, breaking off into a groan when Bruce’s hand just tightened in his hair.

“You’re ok,” Bruce soothed, palming the less-than-subtle line of Tony’s cock.

Really, it seemed that Bruce was a lot less delicate with him since returning. Which, considering he wasn’t all that gentle with him after settling in, was an interesting experience to say the least.

His hips bucked forward, edging on desperate so soon that it was almost embarrassing.

“You’re being a tease,” Tony complained, managing to turn his head enough to press his lips to the underside of Bruce’s jaw. “C’mon, if you’re gonna… Just fuck me, please?”

His thumb traced the sensitive skin just under the glans, making Tony pull away. Too much. Not enough. Now he remembered why he was so frustrated every time Bruce dragged it out, because he managed to recall every little detail of what drove Tony mad.

“I’ll get you there,” he promised lowly, cupping the reactor with his free hand.

Clearly, it was going to be a long night, and Tony was probably going to not want to move in the morning. For now, all he could do was tilt his head back and try and push himself further into Bruce’s hands.

“You’re going to take your sweet time getting me there,” Tony muttered, going slack when Bruce’s teeth found the tender skin of his throat.

He felt Bruce’s smile as he tucked his fingers between Tony’s legs, urging them to spread further. “But you always like it, so I don’t think you get to complain too much.”

And fuck if Bruce wasn’t right about that. He complied easily, feet sliding across the wet tile as he reached back to fist a hand in Bruce’s hair.

At one point, Tony was pretty sure there was a ‘no sex in the shower’ rule to accompany the ‘no sex in the lab’ rule. Granted, the former was the one that tended to get pushed a lot further, to the point where Tony wasn’t sure it was even a rule at all.

Tony choked back a moan as Bruce’s hands slid back, rubbing around his hole gently. While he doubted this was actually going to end with Bruce fucking him, it was probably going to be a damn close thing.

“Just breathe, dear,” Bruce murmured, kissing the back of Tony’s neck before returning to stroking his cock.

Everything was wet, and slick, and his fingers wrapped around his length just tight enough that it had Tony almost fucking up into his fist erratically whenever Bruce decided to slow down for a few seconds.

It continued like that, slowing down and speeding up, for what felt like forever. The burning in his veins was slow, helped along by the hot water still cascading over them. Still, in spite of that, it still caught Tony by surprise when it finally hit.

A sharp moan broke through as waves of it crashed through him, everything going fuzzy for several blessed seconds as he spilled over Bruce’s hand. The mess quickly washing away along with his strength. His knees felt unsteady, and it was damn lucky that Bruce had him held so tightly against his chest because otherwise it might end with him on the shower floor, and that just wasn’t sexy.

Tony was breathing harshly through his nose, clinging to the arm around his chest as he tried to regain his balance.

“That’s it,” Bruce murmured, kissing the skin behind his ear. “Feeling better?”

He nodded dumbly, letting his head fall back against Bruce’s shoulder for a few seconds before the water started to sting his eyes. “I hope you realize that you’re going to have to hold me up here for the next several minutes,” Tony muttered, words slurring the slightest bit.

He could feel Bruce laughing behind him. “I figured as much,” Bruce said. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tony rolled his eyes fondly, trying to get his footing back under him. “Damn right you’re not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a touch late orz The ending was rearranged about three different times, so if it feels choppy, that'd be why  
> All right, lovelies, one more chapter left, and it should actually be on time. Thank you so so much for sticking with me, and concrit is greatly cherished


	27. Chapter 27

“Bruce, I need a hand,” Tony called, hunched over Bucky’s shoulder socket. It was unnervingly empty, but he figured he needed to double check before he attached the new arm. Even though it scanned fine, and Tony was absolutely sure that the new model would fit in perfectly, he was a lot more careful when putting tech on people who weren’t himself.

He heard a loud sigh and the shuffle of footsteps. “If you’re setting me up for a pun right now, I’m leaving you,” Bruce warned.

Bucky scoffed, and Tony took that as a good sign since the man had been tense since Tony took off the old hulking mass of an arm.

“I’m actually offended you think so lowly of me,” Tony muttered, scooting his chair over so that Bruce could get a look as well.

Bruce hummed, edging into the space Tony left. “What’s the problem? And why insist we don’t need Dr. Cho if you’re going to enlist my help?”

“One, she was busy, two, she doesn’t know the prosthesis like you do,” Tony rattled off, wheeling over to grab a different set of tools. “It doesn’t look infected, right? I mean, it looks red and kinda raw, but everything looks about as fine as could be expected, right?”

There was a shared glance between Bruce and Bucky before he set to examining the area, gently touching the rough ropes of scarring. “It’s fine, Tones. You shouldn’t have any issues with it.”

Well, that was a relief. The last thing Tony wanted was to make it worse in his attempt to fix things. He drummed his fingers on the case of screwdrivers as he straightened up. “All right. Let’s get started then, huh? Bruce, I  _ am _ going to need you to help me attach it; it’s a little unwieldy.”

“Can’t have it getting out of hand, can we?” Bucky asked drily.

Tony tried not to laugh at Bruce’s frustrated huff.

* * *

With the arm done, and Stark Industries  _ still _ not needing enough to warrant full days in the lab, Tony was quick to try and find a new project.

Try being the operative word.

The good news was, Bruce stopped asking for countermeasures against his alter ego. The bad news was, that had been what he’d spent the majority of the last or two year doing, and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself outside of the usual little fixes the team started asking of him again.

“You’re really done?” Bruce asked when Tony collapsed on the couch across from him. “It’s not even three yet.”

“I don’t know what to do with myself and it’s killing me,” Tony complained, well aware that he was being muffled by the cushions.

“You might need a hobby,” Bruce said, amusement clear in his voice. He heard footsteps before the warmth of Bruce’s hand against the back of his neck.

“This  _ is _ my hobby,” he muttered petulantly, stretching his back to get the slight ache to ease up.

While he was pretty sure Bruce was laughing at him, Tony couldn’t really hear it. “Go bug Steve about upgrading his bike again, or something. Or, you know, take a break for once in your life.”

“It’s like you don’t even know me…” Still, Tony made a show of hauling himself upright only to press his forehead against Bruce’s shoulder. 

Granted, it didn’t take long before he was leaving to go ask Steve about the motorcycle.

* * *

Tony spent a lot more time on the common floor while he tried to dream up a new project. His time was split fairly evenly between catching  _ both _ of the men out of time up on pop culture, and telling Bucky stories of things that the good Captain had been up to in his absence.

The way Buck had lit up when he first heard him call Steve ‘Spangles’ was almost worth the antsiness that always built up when he was project-less.

* * *

“Babe,” Tony complained halfheartedly, hitching his ass up to press firmly against Bruce’s hips, only to be promptly pushed back down.

“My pace, remember?” Bruce murmured against the skin of his throat.

And really, the damp warmth of his mouth wasn’t helping the fact that he’d been hard for at least a half hour, and Bruce hadn’t even had the decency to pull down either of their sweatpants.

Frankly, it was starting to get more than a little frustrating. “Your pace hasn’t resulted in actual sex since you got back. Seriously, can you just…”

Teeth dug into the tender skin at the nape of his neck, and Tony felt himself buckle under it, hands fisting in the sheets as he broke off into a moan.

Tony took it for the warning it probably was. “Yeah, ok, sorry, but really can you…”

“Remember when you didn’t talk so much in bed?” Bruce asked, palm smoothing over his thigh. As if it was supposed to placate him.

It was an ungraceful effort to flip onto his back so he could easily glare up at Bruce, but Tony managed to do that and loop an ankle over his hip in the process. “Remember when you used to fuck me in bed?” he retorted, fingers tangling up in the curls on the back of his head.

Bruce hummed, looking about as nonplussed as ever, in spite of the hard line of his cock that Tony could feel against his thigh even through all the layers of fabric between them. “Be nice and I’ll give you what you want.”

Not for the first time, Tony half wondered how he’d accidentally ended up with someone with a bossy streak that was wider than his own. Though, that was quickly swept away when Bruce finally,  _ finally _ started tucking his fingers underneath the elastic to press against the sensitive skin just inches from the head of his cock.

Because Bruce was a goddamn tease. And Tony couldn’t bring himself to do much more than hold on for the ride.

This time, though, Bruce continued sliding back until he was tapping against his hole with dry fingers. "You should pass me something to make this easier."

And, yeah, Tony was less than graceful as he scrambled to reach for the lube that had been tucked away in their nightstand for months.

* * *

In retrospect, he should have figured out his new project a long time ago. Maybe before Ultron, back when he was constantly building things for the Other Guy.

Then again, he supposed formal commitment didn’t usually cross his mind, even when he was with Pepper, so he should cut himself at least  _ some _ slack on the matter.

Bruce was promptly shuffled off to a different lab, Tony insisting that he needed space and that it wasn’t anything dire, that there was absolutely no need for him to worry, but he really should have JARVIS let Tony know whenever he was coming down.

It was pretty stupid, he realized. The entire project, even if it  _ did _ work, probably wouldn’t be practical. And then there was the issue that Bruce probably might not be super appreciative of it.

But then, it was the thought that counted, hopefully. And hopefully the thought that Tony would consider the fact that Bruce might break a normal engagement ring would earn him some points. He just had to keep it hidden away until he could make it work.

Though, he shouldn’t have been surprised when two weeks and a dozen failed prototypes later he found Bruce in his lab with all the schematics pulled up around him.

“You know, I was wondering why I had to shower by myself,” Tony said, not entirely sure what he’d already found, or if he really knew what he was looking at.

Actually, if Bruce didn’t have some inkling as to what the blueprints were for Tony would be disappointed. And appalled.

“I was wondering what you were hiding from me, so I think this makes us about even,” Bruce said, flipping through the screens until the the simple band labeled ‘Probably A Mistake’. “Want to tell me what PAM is? I like the name, by the way. Really inspires confidence.”

“It’s a misnomer.” Tony shifted uncomfortably, noting that at least Bruce had the decency to bring coffee down with him. “If I tell you it’s a sex thing, will you leave it alone until I’m finished?”

“You’re mistaking me for someone who gets squeamish around sex and we both know that I don’t.” Bruce flipped to another page, the materials list. “And I know you know better to think that I’d go with the whole ‘Tony Stark wants to put diamonds on a cockring that will expand to…’” He paused, peering at the numbers. “Ok, you’re going to need to revisit these dimensions, and I don’t want to know how you got the ones you’re working off of.”

“Too big or too small?” Tony asked, stepping forward to take a closer look. They  _ should _ be right; he had more than enough footage of both Bruce and the Other Guy. J’s calculations should be spot on.

Bruce scoffed, moving back to the PAM display. “So. Want to tell me what you’re really working on, or do you want me to tell you what I think you’re doing?” he asked, messing with the holograms until he was holding a rendering of ring. “Because I don’t know if you’re ready for me to agree to this.”

And, ok, it kind of freaked him out. There were definitely butterflies in his stomach from the sight of Bruce standing there, ring in hand, but Tony was convinced that they were a good thing.

“You should try it on,” Tony offered impulsively. “Since you think I got the fit wrong. It’ll resize and then I can…”

Bruce examined it, eventually glancing over as if he was trying to gauge how serious Tony was. “You know, everyone warned me that I was going to have to be the one to do this part,” he said idly, ring fitting neatly around his left ring finger without the display flickering to resize. “I think Rhodey even pulled me aside and told me to not take it personal if you forgot that marriage was even a thing.” Bruce examined it, flashing the display to Tony for a brief moment before sliding it off and letting it form back into the 2-D display.

And, ok, the brief smile that tugged at the corner of Bruce’s lips really wasn’t helping the erratic beating of Tony’s heart.

“How about you get this finished up, and we’ll talk about then,” he said, seeming more than a little pleased with himself. Almost  _ smug _ .

“Yeah, sure, let me just,” Tony said, edging around the holograms until he had a clear path to Bruce. At which point he promptly closed the distance, fingers tangling in curls that were getting slightly too long as he started backing Bruce up against a worktable. “Let me just…”

“If you have a commitment kink, I’m not going to be able to look Rhodey in the eye when he asks me about this,” Bruce said, entirely too calm considering how blown out his pupils were. Or how his hands were already slipping down to the base of Tony’s spine

“The only story he’s going to want to know is the one where you actually say yes,” Tony retorted, slotting their hips up closer than would ever be considered decent. And yeah, he could definitely tell that Bruce was more interested than his voice indicated.

Bruce rolled his eyes, dropping a chaste kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth. “You better get to work, honey. You’ve got a lot of re-configuring to do before it’ll do what you want it to.” Gently, he managed to maneuver away, squeezing Tony’s hip before completely dropping the touch.

Tony slumped a bit, feeling both jittery and like someone had cut all of his strings; left with too much adrenaline and nothing to actively do with it.

Well. Nothing except the ring, and then maybe.

_ Maybe _ he could convince Bruce to leave the labs early today .

* * *

It shouldn’t have taken him three months to figure out that it wasn’t going to work the way he needed it to.

By all accounts, it should have been obvious that while he could fit a suit into a briefcase, or a gauntlet into a watch, he couldn’t get the ring thin enough to be livable, while still expanding the way he needed it to.

He just didn’t want to admit it to Bruce, because it had been such a good idea, and he liked being able to make his good ideas work.

The problem with not wanting to admit defeat was that he had worked under the assumption that he needed to wait for  _ that _ ring to actually ask Bruce. And Tony had run out of patience for that about two weeks ago, which meant he was going to have to cave and give something else a try.

“Did you get it finished?” Bruce asked as he stepped off the elevator.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if he should have waited until the end of the day to do this. But it had been burning a figurative hole in his pocket since this morning as it was.

“So, minor problem,” Tony started, pulling up the displays. “I’m not going to be able to get this to work unless I can figure out a different way to make it expand, or find a thinner base material.” Tony pushed aside the PAM display, pulling open a file that he knew for a fact Bruce hadn’t seen before since he’d half-assed creating it last night. Which meant he hadn’t really had enough time to give it a clever acronym either.

Bruce’s brow furrowed, stepping closer and examining the new set of numbers and dimensions. “If you called me down here so I could do the hard work on my own engagement ring, I’m probably going to call the whole thing off,” he said, a small smile on his lips that belied the serious tone of his words.

“You’re so cruel to me.” Tony rolled his eyes, pulling out the new ring rendering for Bruce’s inspection. “But no, that’s not why I had JARVIS fetch you. What do you think of design?”

There was definitely some skepticism in Bruce’s eyes, though he delicately plucked the hologram from Tony’s fingers. “It looks a lot more practical than anything I thought you would choose,” he said after a few moments, offering it back. “I mean that as a good thing, just so you know. The last one was entirely too bejeweled for my tastes.”

Tony scoffed, pushing the entire display aside in one smooth motion, and was pleased when the ring faded away with it. “Yeah, I figured as much. You seem to rebuff all of my efforts to put you in finery.”

“Is that how you’re saying it?” Bruce asked, amusement leaking into his voice.

It was hard to resist the urge to stick out his tongue or flip Bruce off, but… Well. He would really like this to be a sweet moment. Which meant he should act closer to his age.

Except Bruce was the one that was better at sweet moments, so Tony was pretty sure he was floundering while trying to do the same thing.

So he bit back his retort about how, yes, that  _ was _ how he was saying it. “No complaints about it? I mean, you didn’t actually say anything about disliking the first model, but I’d appreciate knowing before I gave it to you if you liked it or not.”

“It’s nice, Tony. Did you just want me to approve the design? Because there are easier ways to do that, that would have probably saved you some time.”

Clearly this wasn’t going as well as he wanted it to. Tony bit back a huff, well aware that it was his nerves that were making him feel a little frustrated. Not anything Bruce was doing or saying.

Blindly, he reached behind him to open up a drawer, groping around until he felt the velvet box against his fingers. “I mean, yes but no,” he hedged, grasping the ring box and sliding the drawer shut.

Only then did he hesitate. Sure, Bruce had said to ask again after he finished the ring, but… Surely he wouldn’t say no just because he ended up buying one, right? That was entirely too petty for him.

Tony took a slow breath, focusing on  _ not _ freaking out as he flipped open the box and showed Bruce the real deal. A simple platinum band nestled in dark blue velvet. “Check the fit for me?”

Everything seemed to pause, feeling entirely too silent as Bruce glanced between Tony and the ring box a handful of times.

This was probably a bad idea. Actually, the whole marriage thing in general was probably a bad idea; why had he gone this far with it when--

“If that’s your version of proposing, I might have to agree with Rhodey when he said you’d be bad at it.”

Tony glared outright at him, retracting the box. “Not the time, Banner,” he warned. “Can you just…” He motioned vaguely, pulling out the ring himself and offering it to Bruce. “Let me know if you think this is good?”

His expression softened as he leaned in to kiss Tony’s cheek. And that alone was enough to at least assuage some of his nerves. “You should put it on me yourself and see what you think.”

There was a chance that Tony’s heart was finding a rather tight home in his throat, and he let the box fall to the floor so he could grasp Bruce’s left hand. Maybe he dawdled a bit. Tracing his thumb over the ridge of calluses along the side of his palm before sliding the ring onto his finger.

Tony exhaled sharply, tracing over the smooth metal that fit so nicely. The light grey looked so much better against Bruce’s skin than he thought gold would. It was simple, really. A plain band that he hadn’t even gotten engraved, because what the hell could he say that was short enough to encompass how important Bruce was to him?

“I think it’s good,” he ascertained before pressing his lips in a thin line. God, it was surreal… This was never something Tony thought he would do himself, and yet… He couldn’t really see himself doing anything different with Bruce.

He examined the ring without pulling away from Tony, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I think it is too.”

“So you’ll do this? In spite of the fact that it’s not going to fit you if you change? Because I can keep working on that, but I didn’t,” Tony almost faltered, shrugging halfheartedly. “I didn’t really want to wait that long, to be honest with you. Patience is  _ your _ strong suit; not mine.”

“Tones, if I wasn’t going to go through with this, I probably would have mentioned it months ago.” He pulled his hand out of Tony’s, only to reach out and cup his cheek.

And, ok, he  _ really _ wanted to get used feeling that little strip of metal against his skin.

He leaned into the touch, smiling when Bruce pressed their lips together for a brief moment. Relief was palpable, and he was quick to melt into his partner--no, his  _ fiance _ , and that was a hell of a thought.

“I really fucking love you,” Tony murmured, quick to wrap an arm around Bruce’s waist to tug him closer.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Bruce said, a wry smile on his lips as he easily stepped out of Tony’s hold. And then promptly grasped his hand before Tony could start to complain about it. “Pretty sure it’s been true since I decided to stay here the first time.”

It was hard not to wrinkle his nose at the thought, even as he started following Bruce towards the elevator. “Babe, that was more than three years ago. And you were hesitant to even let me touch you back then.”

Bruce squeezed his hand gently but made a point to roll his eyes at the same time. “I remember. But I would have left if I didn’t feel connected to you.”

“You’re such a fucking sap,” Tony said, gently nudging his hip. “Next you’ll be telling me that it was meant to be, or something equally ridiculous.”

The second the elevator doors closed, Bruce was quick to push him back against the wall. “How about you hush for a few minutes and let me appreciate my fiance for a while instead?” he asked softly, their twined hands pressing just above Tony’s shoulder.

An awkward angle, sure, but it wasn’t like Tony was going to say anything about it. “How about you appreciate your fiance, and I keep talking?” he challenged.

A challenge that Bruce seemed more than happy to accept, given how quickly their lips were sealed together and the mere inch of space Bruce allowed between them.

Meant to be, in Tony’s opinion, was far overrated if he could have this instead. In spite of the fact that, technically speaking, it wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. Not for the two of them.

But they had a good thing going, and that was really what mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually a little sad to be wrapping this up. It's been a great ride, and I've really enjoyed writing and sharing this with all of you. I hope this wraps everything up for you nicely, and that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for all your support <3


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